


CoSL 25: Poisoned Heart

by Dracophile



Series: Grimm-The Casebook of Sloane Larson [25]
Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Bad Mothers, Escape, Mind Control, Poison, Royals, Snow White Elements, adalind learning to be good, episode summary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:15:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24361180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracophile/pseuds/Dracophile
Summary: Part 25 of the Casebook of Sloane LarsonSloane goes back to Wildred on her own to look through her grandmother's collection for anything to help against Juliette. Surprises abound in town and she enjoys catching up and meeting some familiar faces and some new ones. But someone has something planned for her...Meanwhile, Nick and Hank deal with the cases of the Mishipeshu and the Iron Hans camp, before Dierdre returns to wreak havoc in Portland.
Relationships: Rosalee Calvert/Monroe
Series: Grimm-The Casebook of Sloane Larson [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1061588
Comments: 8
Kudos: 12





	CoSL 25: Poisoned Heart

_**"Then her envious heart was at rest, as well as an envious heart can be at rest."** _

\-------------------------------

Poisoned Heart

\-------------------------------

It was only a couple of days after the competition when they met at Monroe and Rosalee’s for dinner—Nick, Hank and Sloane coming to the door at about the same time. It was immediately obvious Nick was back to being on edge. No one could blame him—after Juliette nearly killing a man in front of them and having to work around what happened at the ballroom, he’d hardly slept since. He’d been trying hard to find her.

“Guys, come on in,” Monroe said, opening the door when they knocked.

“Oh, Nick, come here,” Rosalee said, giving him a hug. Nick quirked a brow but tried to smile. He knew she was just trying to make him feel comforted. “I'm so happy you could come over.”

“Hey, Hank, Sloane,” Monroe said. They smiled and nodded back as they walked in. “Got a nice bottle of wine breathing over here all by its lonesome.”

“You have anything a little stronger?” Nick asked.

They glanced at one another at the morose tone, but Monroe nodded.

“Uh... sure.”

“Smells good,” Hank said, taking off his jacket to hang up. “It's gonna be nice to have a home-cooked meal for a change.”

“Yeah, most effort I put in lately is putting a frozen dinner in the microwave—or the oven if I’m feeling fancy,” Sloane smiled.

“Then here's to a home-cooked meal,” Monroe said, pouring out the glasses and handing them around.

“So... how are things after…um, the competition?”

Nick sighed, rubbing his temple. “Look, I don't want anybody to feel... awkward about me and Juliette.”

“Yeah, no, why would we?” Monroe asked.

“Not at all,” Rosalee said. Hank and Sloane looked at one another and sighed a bit.

“I know she tried to blame all of you…and you saw what she did at the ballroom.”

“We know that's not her talking, or doing those things,” Rosalee said.

“No, it's not. Not really. I mean, I wish she was talking. She's back to not answering the phone. She's not showing up to work. She... I don't even know where she is,” he groaned.

“You know, when something like this happens, it takes time to figure it out,” Hank said gently.

“This is a pretty unique situation,” Sloane said. “It’s been a week since Monroe and Rosalee found out and we were busy before. Now we can focus more on…fixing this.”

“Yeah, well, I feel like I'm running out of time,” he said a little waspishly. “I'm afraid of what she might do out there, after seeing what she did to Mr. Stepenov.”

“There must be something we can do,” Rosalee sighed.

“Like what? Tell me, am I missing something?” He asked a bit more desperately. “'Cause I'm out there every night, driving the streets trying to find her, hoping that there's some way that I can help her or talk some sense into her.”

“Dude, we totally get it,” Monroe said.

Nick shook his head, certain they didn’t get it. How could they? “I'm sorry; I can't... be here, pretending that she's not out there somewhere. I'm gonna have to take a rain check. I'm just...I'm really sorry.” He stood, grabbing his jacket and heading for the door. Sloane almost stood to follow him but sighed and sat down again. She didn’t know what to say or do either. The door shutting felt a bit cutting though.

“Who's hungry?” Monroe said, smiling tightly. The others looked up at him and the smile fell into the same morose look as them.

“You know, just because this Henrietta, whom I've never met, says it's irreversible doesn't mean it is,” Rosalee said, putting the glass down.

“I want to believe that too, but she does seem pretty knowledgeable,” Sloane said. “She put together that protection spell really quickly.”

“Maybe…but I think we need to talk to Sean Renard. He's still got the book that Adalind used, and there might be something in there that could help Juliette.”

“Then we're gonna have to get that hat too,” Monroe sighed.

“We're gonna go through that book, through every spell backwards and forwards till we find something that works,” Rosalee said in determination.

“You're forgetting the main ingredient,” Hank pointed out.

“What's that?” Monroe asked.

“Juliette.”

They sighed, all knowing that was going to be the hardest part. “…I’m asking around for an _Abhandlung über die Hexenjagd._ ”

“A…what?” Monroe asked, trying to translate in his head.

“ _A Treatise on Witch Hunting._ It’s the Grimm’s _Malleus_ _Maleficarum_. Heinrich Kramer wrote the _Maleficarum_ after briefly seeing the _Hexenjagd_. So, the information in that isn’t all accurate. But it was more widespread, and a lot of Blind Hunters used it to root out “witches” over the years.”

“Like in Salem?” Hank asked.

“Exactly like Salem. In fact, definitely Salem. I guarantee none of those were actually witches, just a lot o hysteria and rumors. But the _Hexenjagd_ was written by Grimms specializing in hunting Hexenbiests. The Eisenkreis.”

“The Iron Circle?” Monroe asked, morbidly fascinated in this tidbit of Grimm history he had no idea about.

“Yeah, a group of Grimm who were devoted to studying Hexen and Zauberbiests back in the 13th century. Crude but effective studying likely. I don’t think they ever dealt with this either, but who knows? At least it might give us a lead I hope…but finding a copy or even a transcript is going to be tough.”

“Well…here’s hoping it gives us something then,” Hank sighed.

“I was hoping to talk about what you wanted to do for your birthday this year,” Rosalee said, looking at Sloane. “I know you don’t like making a big deal, but last year was nice and I didn’t want you to think we forgot with everything going on…”

“Though we sort of did considering it’s this Thursday,” Monroe muttered. Rosalee shot him a look and he smiled charmingly.

“I understand,” Sloane agreed. “But…I think I might actually head back to Wildred for a bit. Mim and Jean visiting made me realize I should go back more often.”

“We could come visit?” Hank asked.

“…That might be nice, but I think Nick is going to be really preoccupied for a while,” she sighed. “I’m also going to look through my grandmother’s collection. See if there’s anything there that could help Juliette. We can do a raincheck?”

“Sure,” Rosalee said, putting an arm around her.

“You guys still want to stay for dinner? We made plenty,” Monroe said.

“Yeah, I’m still up for it,” Hank nodded. They went to the dining room to sit and serve the food up and tried to find lighter conversation while they ate. Nick’s absence was hard not to feel though.

Sloane’s phone chimed and she picked it up to look at the number. “Gallin?”

“Uh oh, is that usually bad news?” Monroe said.

“That’s a bit mean,” Rosalee pouted.

“He’s not wrong though,” Sloane sighed, answering the call. “Cynthia?”

“Hey, Sloane…”

“What’s wrong?” she asked, noting the worried tone. Monroe looked at Rosalee as if to say “see?” and she rolled her eyes.

“Nothing, maybe…Look, I need to confess something. I…didn’t destroy all of Gwen’s research.”

“…Okay…” she said, narrowing her eyes. “Why?”

“There were some things I thought could help people! While her methods were disgusting, she did find a few cures and such. I wanted to pass the research on to an old family friend, but he’s been in Europe the last year and I wasn’t sure about mailing it—”

“Cynthia, I know you aren’t just calling about that, something happened didn’t it?” Sloane sighed.

“…I think the book was stolen.”

“What?” she asked, straightening.

“I swear I don’t know how anyone knew about it! It’s not like I advertised I had it. It was in a lock box under my bed. But when I got back from class a couple of days ago things felt off. So, I looked around and found the box and I couldn’t find the book. I’ve looked everywhere, just to be sure I didn’t put it somewhere and forgot!”

Sloane sighed. “Okay, okay, it’s alright…”

“It is?” she asked meekly.

“Maybe. We don’t know what someone would want with that stuff. But you’re okay, right?”

“Yeah, it was while I was out…”

“Then that’s good. Check some of the online forums, maybe someone stole it to sell. It happens.”

“Okay…I’ll see what I can find out. I just wanted to let you know,” she sighed.

“I appreciate that but there’s not much I can do from here. Just get some extra locks.”

“I will…I’ll talk to you later.”

“Yeah, talk to you later.” She sighed and hanged up.

“Everything okay?” Rosalee asked.

Sloane looked at them and smiled. “It’s fine, really. Someone took some notes she still had from Gwendolyn Zima.”

“The crazy ice witch?” Monroe said, on edge immediately.

“Yes. But who knows why or what they wanted,” she shrugged. “She just wanted to make sure we knew.”

“Hopefully nothing bad comes from that,” Hank said, sipping his wine. They were all a bit doubtful it was an innocent science student, but what could they do?

\--------------------

Juliette had spent the last couple of days in a motel. The first night, she’s paced a lot, thinking over what happened. She’d gone to the dance competition after thinking over what Sloane said. Thinking on one hand she was unfortunately right—she’d had her powers for months and had hardly done anything with them. She told herself she was going to do great things and catch bad guys and all that but instead she was spending her time moping about Nick’s reaction. Then angry at him for it. Then angry at herself for moping or being angry about it. It all just continued to make her confused, but she had gone there with the idea she would help on the case.

Then seeing Sloane and Nick dance together…it made something in her twist. Something ugly. Sloane looked happy and so did Nick—despite all his claims about trying to help her, he was here dancing?! Even if it was a cover to try and figure out who the wesen was, it burned her to see them just going on like everything was fine. As if her not being in their lives was fine.

It hurt.

That hurt then turned to anger again as a voice in her head told her she was better than them anyway. And to prove it, she wanted to capture the wesen. Him giving up before she could take him down wasn’t part of the plan, but she figured shaking him around a little wasn’t going to hurt, right? But no, then his father had to try and stop her and really, she was acting in self-defense! Sending him that far was not on purpose!

_“Your kind only bring pain and trouble to everything you touch!”_

She gritted her teeth at the memory. What did he know? She could be powerful and still good, right? Right.

But who would decide what “good” was?

Sighing, she decided she needed to go out and stop staring at the walls of her motel. There were some bars in walking distance, so she headed out and over to one that looked lively. Maybe being around people would help settle her mood a bit. People were milling about, talking, laughing, flirting…so mundane really. None of them had any idea who she was or what she was. What she could do. She could probably kill all of them…

She shook her head a little, frowning at the thought. That wasn’t what she wanted to do. Of course, it wasn’t. Why did such dark thoughts keep coming to her?

“What can I get you?” She looked up at the bartender, realizing she’d walked over to one of the stools in the middle of the bar on autopilot.

“…Vodka, rocks. You pick it.” He nodded, going to pour the drink. She sighed, trying to center herself. Nick and the others were overreacting. She was in control of herself. She knew what she was doing. Just because no one saw the value in her powers and thought she was some kind of monster now didn’t make it true.

“You meeting someone?”

Juliette looked up to see a man about her age, wearing a blue jacket and a striped hat, smiling at her hopefully. Like a puppy.

“No…” She picked up the glass when the bartender set it down.

“Why don't you let me buy you that drink?”

She quirked her brow but smiled a little and downed the vodka in one go. “Why don't I let you buy me the next one too?”

He smiled, looking entranced, and chuckled. “Bring her another.” The Bartender nodded and he leaned into Juliette. “I'm Rick.”

She nodded. A perfectly ordinary name for a perfectly ordinary man. “You look like a Rick.”

“What's your name?”

She smiled a little more, accepting the drink but swirling it idly. “What do I look like?”

He laughed again. “What, is this a game?”

“Yeah,” she shrugged, sipping.

He smiled and put on a playful thinking face. “You look like...A Jackie.”

Juliette snorted a laugh. “Wow. You are really good.”

“Really? That's... that's your name?” he asked, surprised.

“It is now.” She took a deeper drink, then noted the man Rick had left behind looking on his phone. He was relatively good looking as well, again in an average sort of way. “Who's your friend?”

“Hey, this is... between you and me,” he said, getting a little jealous.

She smirked again. “Yeah? You think you can handle me all by yourself?”

Rick smiled, getting a bit more serious. “You're kind of a... A wild girl?”

 _Wild…like an animal?_ “You really don't want to know,” she said, looking down into her glass pensively. That what they treated her like. A wild animal. More so than a lot of wesen they had met, they looked at her warily. Fearfully. As though any second she would try and rip their throats out. Admittedly she’d had that one dream about doing it to Rosalee, but it’d disgusted her then and disgusted her now. _Because why would you use your teeth when you can use your powers?_ She flinched at the question that popped into her head. A lot of those seemed to come lately. And they were starting to make a lot of sense.

Rick just smiled, moving in closer. “Yeah. I do.”

It took her a moment to remember her last comment and she shook her head. She could hurt this guy. She knew she could, and she didn’t want to. Not really. “Trust me. You don't.” She moved around him, intent to leave now.

Rick frowned, turning with her, a little affronted. “Jackie, I just bought you two drinks.”

The demanding tone gave Juliette pause. She turned, eyeing him. Had he been trying to buy her with alcohol? Was he that dense? “What do you expect for two drinks?”

He shrugged. “A little conversation, get to know each other. I... I want to find out who you are.” He was trying to be charming, maybe to smooth over his tone from before. Trying to play to her emotions.

 _Trying to play you. Like the others try to play you by pulling at your soft sides. Because he wants something from you. That’s all they ever did, was take from you. Your time, your heart, your devotion. And what did you get in return? Where are they?_ “You really mean that?”

“Yeah. I do. I find you very attractive.” And there was the infatuation again.

“You like my eyes?” she asked.

“Yes,” he smiled.

“Do you like my lips?”

“Yeah, I do. I like everything about you,” he said, almost eager.

“Everything?” He nodded, smiling. Because he had no idea what she was. The way Nick used to smile at her before she told him. “How about now?” She woged, and the flood of power that came from her caused the lights to short circuit. But Rick was close enough to see her change and he yelped and quickly stepped back while the others were all freaking out about the light. She then changed back. The same reaction. She wasn’t surprised. And it didn’t actually hurt this time either. Sighing, she turned to head out.

“Did you see that?” Rick was asking. “Did you see that? Hey!”

Juliette felt the hand on her arm spinning her and she raised her hand up against his stomach and pushed with her power at the same time. Rick was tossed back, crashing into a table and both going sprawling over the floor, glasses shattering as they fell. He stared up at her, eyes wide with fear. And she liked it. She liked it a lot.

People were murmuring, scared by the sudden show of power. The bartender was calling the police, but Juliette just smiled as they quickly got out of her way while she sauntered to the door. Screw other people. She was strong enough they did not matter. Strong enough no one could hurt her or use her anymore. Strong enough she didn’t need anyone else or their approval.

\-----------------

Sloane was finishing packing up when her phone rang, and she picked up. “Hey Wu.”

“Hey. Got a dead body at a high school.”

“Ah, guess you didn’t get the roster. I’m off for the next few days.”

“What? You? Did you break another bone? Or did another crazy relative come visit?” he asked, mildly surprised.

“Ha, no. I’m going to my old hometown for a visit and do some research in my grandmother’s collection. I was going to tell Nick last night, but he went looking for Juliette…”

“Is that what the research is for?” he asked subtly.

“Yes. A long shot but better to check than overlook it…”

“Okay. Let us know when you’re heading back then.”

“Will do. Actually, I do need to tell Nick…”

“I’ll let you handle that, he’s still kind of a bundle of nerves. Maybe you should take him dancing again.”

Sloane huffed a laugh and tried not to think how nice that would be. “I don’t think that’s going to help anymore, but thanks.”

“Right. Later.”

“Bye.”

They hanged up and she sighed and dialed Nick’s number as she finished packing one-handed and managed to zip the bag up. “Sloane? Hey, I’m on my way to the scene.” He sounded alright, back to business as usual.

“And I’m on my way to Wildred,” she sighed.

“What?”

“I told the others last night. I’m heading there to look through my grandmother’s books and try and find a lead for Juliette’s condition. I’ve got a couple of other sources looking too.”

“…Thanks,” Nick sighed. “I…I’m sorry about last night…”

“I’d say Monroe and Rosalee are more who you should apologize to. But they’ve already forgiven you too. We know this is kind of a rough time,” she said sympathetically.

“Thanks…Oh, actually, I have something for you.”

“For me?”

“Yeah, a package came it had my vambrace in it, the one we used for the Gelumcaedus?”

“What? Oh! Yeah, we sent that off…god, it’s been like a year and a half now…”

“Yeah, I’d honestly almost forgotten about it,” Nick chuckled.

“Well, the guy we sent it to, Leon, isn’t known for his timeliness or memory,” she smiled. “He’s like a mad scientist blacksmith.”

“So…a steampunk?”

“I’ve heard of that and I wouldn’t be surprised if he was the original. I guess without the Library he had to send it via mail too and that can take a while when it’s the kind of stuff we send through the back channels.”

“Well, there’s another one in here for you along with a letter and some notes. Did he not have your address?”

“He’s not organized either…”

“You want me to hold on to it?”

“Hmmm…Actually, I still have that book of yours about the Excandesco. I finished copying it a while ago. I could come trade you.”

“I need to get out to the crime scene…” He sighed then paused. “Well, I can leave you a key.

“Oh, you don’t have to, I can do it when I get back,” she said quickly.

“Nah, let’s go ahead and do it. This letter might be important. I’ll leave the key in the mailbox, just lock up after and bring it back with you.”

She tried not to be a little excited, kicking herself mentally. _It’s not like that, stop it._ “If you’re sure…”

“Yeah, it’s fine. They're up in my room on the bed. Just let me know if you find anything in your grandmother’s collection.”

“Of course, I will. Rosalee talked about coming down for the weekend, since we all can’t get together on Thursday, but I understand if you’re not up to it…”

“I’ll think on it…what’s happening on Thursday?”

Sloane frowned, trying not to feel a little hurt. After all, he was busy. “Uh…nothing important, really…You should get going. I’ll be over soon.”

“Okay, later,” Nick agreed. They hanged up and Sloane sighed. Disappointment that someone didn’t remember her birthday hadn’t bothered her since she was a kid. Shaking her head, she went and grabbed the old book from her desk and then hoisted the bag onto her shoulder and headed to the door. She tapped the Hamsa at the door—the one Henrietta made to keep Dierdre out. She considered bringing it with her, but she decided to protect her house first and foremost. Heading to her car, she hopped in and headed out, having no idea someone was watching her and then following.

\----------------------

Nick and Hank meanwhile went to Carver High School, where a janitor named Larry Kilburn had been found dead. Deputy Farris was actually working with them on this case. Having not seen her since the Phansigar incident, she was doing well and ready for another weird case. They went to talk with the principal, who told them Larry mostly kept to himself and wasn’t liked but wasn’t hated as far as she knew. He was married but divorced and that was about what she knew.

The only other incident she currently knew of was some issues with racial discrimination in her students. The most egregious so far was the continuous vandalizing of a senior student’s locker, a native American boy named Simon George. They continued to clean the graffiti of slurs and racial epithets off his locker and they kept coming back. Disturbingly, Principal Wiley had come in early before anyone should’ve been there one morning and the graffiti was already in place. It brought in question who had access or could give access and Larry was the night custodian. But she’d never been able to prove who it was and in the end Simon dropped out recently after turning 18.

Leaving, they decided to research Kilburn further to see if maybe Simon had tried to seek revenge. Farris asked to come with because her ex-husband was actually part of the same tripe, the Ojibwe.

“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask, where’s your other partner? Larson?” Farris asked as they pulled up to the precinct and headed inside.

“Oh, she went to go visit where she grew up for a few days,” Hank said.

“Visiting family?”

“Eh, kind of. Plus, it’s her birthday coming up, so she wanted to visit.”

Nick stopped in his tracks as he was walking. “Birthday? …Oh, Thursday!” He groaned, covering his eyes. “I forgot!”

“Hey, no big deal,” Hank said.

“No, I forgot when I was talking to her…I asked what was important about Thursday…”

“Ouch,” Farris said, grimacing in sympathy.

“We’ve all had a lot going on,” Hank said gently. “Plus, she didn’t normally celebrate before. I’m sure she understands.”

“Yeah…still makes me feel like a jerk though,” he sighed, following them to their desks. Hank looked up their victim while Nick looked up Simon George and Farris sat with Hank to look over the records as they pulled them up.

“Looks like our victim, Lawrence Kilburn, has a bit of a history. Drunk and disorderly, couple of assault charges, nothing too outrageous, at least not on his record. Last few years, he's been pretty clean. Anything on the kid?” Hank asked.

Nick sighed because the file wasn’t exactly a feel-good story. “Simon George, entered foster care at age five when his father was murdered. Mother died in childbirth. He was in the system for a lot of years...”

Farris nodded. “I remember hearing something about his father's murder…His father's name was Gus George. Very formidable man, did a lot for the tribe.”

“What happened?” Hank asked.

She sighed, shaking her head. “Some kind of road rage. Gus was in his truck with his son, driving down Highway 26. He was pulled from the truck and beaten to death. His son Simon was five, witnessed the whole thing. He was so traumatized that he was never able to talk about it.” Both of them grimaced at the thought of a five-year-old witnessing such a thing. Sloane would probably be the most sympathetic if she were there and Nick decided not to tell her till she came back because she didn’t need to feel like she needed to rush back.

“Did they ever catch who did it?” Hank asked.

She shook her head. “No. They figure it was more than one man. It was a real tragedy.”

“And this is the same kid who had graffiti on his locker?” Nick asked. It was disgusting to do that anyway, but the kid had already been through so much.

“I think it is.”

“So, we need to find Simon George. You got a last known on him?” Hank asked, looking at Nick.

He glanced over the file again but shook his head. “Not on the record.”

“Maybe the tribe knows where he is,” Farris suggested.

“We have no jurisdiction with the tribes,” he pointed out.

“I know you don't. They know me over there. I'll make a call,” she smiled, waving her phone. He smiled and nodded while she walked off.

Wu took that opportunity to go over to Nick quickly and get his attention. “Nick. Just got a call from central precinct. They've got a Juliette Silverton in custody.”

Nick’s jaw dropped and it took him a moment to find just one word to come out. “What?”

“I didn't want to get into it without letting you know,” he said.

He looked at Hank, who was equally speechless before back at Wu. “Well, has she been charged?”

“They're holding her on assault,” he said meaningfully. “Not about what happened at the ballroom though, something downtown.”

Nick huffed out a breath before standing. “I…I got to go.” He stood but then quickly went into his bag at his desk. “Oh, but I was going to give this to you.”

“A present? You shouldn’t have. It’s Sloane’s birthday this week.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” He muttered. He pulled out a piece of paper and handed to him. “But it’s not exactly a present.” Wu took it and blinked in surprise. A fairly nice portrait was drawn on it, but the woman in it was intimidating. Her gaze was cold even in a lovely face and she had dark hair with a white streak in the front.

“Who’s this?”

“Dierdre. I drew it last night when it occurred to me it might work enough to put out there in case anyone sees her. I was going to show it to Sloane to make sure, but I think it’s pretty accurate.”

“After a couple of weeks?” Hank asked, looking at it.

“I’m sure I’m not going to forget her face,” Nick nodded. “I put a description on the back.”

He glanced at it but nodded. “Okay. I’ll get this to the printers, and we’ll see what we can find. You know, you’re pretty good though. Maybe you should branch out into a sketch artist too.”

Nick tried to smile. “Right now, I need to get to Juliette.”

Hank was nodding. “Yeah, don't worry. Farris and I can handle this.”

He nodded, getting his jacket on. “At least now I know where she is…” he quickly headed out, nodding to Farris as he passed, and she was hanging up on a call.

“Simon George moved out to the reservation six months ago.”

“All right, so they know where we can find him?” Hank asked.

“Not exactly. We need to go out there.”

He nodded, standing to head out as well. Things were rolling on all sides it seems.

\---------------------

Sloane reached into the black mailbox next to the door and pulled out the spare key Nick left her. He’d put it in sandwich back and opened it and the door up quickly. Closing it, she paused a bit and looked around. Before the house always felt very alive. It was where Nick and Juliette lived and felt a lot of good memories. But after death, blood, dark magic and more, it didn’t feel so warm anymore. With only Nick, it felt suddenly very cold and lonely.

Sighing, she set her back down by the door and headed up to the bedroom. She saw the box on the bed and smiled wryly. The inside was full of those little plastic peanuts, but they were all black and gold. Leon knew how to set a mood. Next to it was a large brace—Nick’s, which looked like it’d been cleaned and restored. Another was next to it, a little smaller. Smiling, she unwrapped the cloth around it and looked it over. It lacked the alligator skin Nick’s had, instead covered with a studded black leather. The part around the upper arm was brown leather and instead of a Gelumcaedus portrait there was a stamped “G” in it. Putting it on, she flexed her arm and noted it fit perfectly. But she also noted it was different than Nick’s and picking up a blueprint next to it, Leon’s scrawl was easy to read. She read the instructions and then looked at it again before flicking her wrist with her thumb on the palm. The ten-inch, double-edged blade snapped up smoothly. She smiled, moving it around. _I could get used to this…_ With another flick the blade retracted, and she undid the straps to wrap it back up. The letter Nick mentioned was next to it and she picked it up. Curious, she went ahead and opened it, sitting on the bed.

_Sloane,_

_Thank you so much for sending this to me! It is a marvel of our ancestor’s ingenuity. If a little outdated. I made some improvements to the new design and have drawn up several blueprints to begin production. Yours is of course free but I think this will be a new popular item for the other Grimms around the world. It’s not only effective against those crocodile bastards after all._

_The body is brass, and I used the finest leather…_

She sighed and skimmed the rest. She’d had the feeling nothing important would be in the letter. Leon was a chatty man in person and in writing. She went through the whole three-page letter and didn’t see anything that was really that important. At some point she’d ended up laying back in impatience. When she was done she remembered this wasn’t her bed, it was Nick and Juliette’s. Blushing, she quickly sat back up and put the letter away. _Make yourself at home, huh?_ She put the letter with the vambrace and stood but bumped the nightstand with her foot. She made sure everything was okay and paused when she saw a little box on the table. Hesitantly she picked it up. _A ring box…is this…?_

She bit her lip and sat again, looking at it uncertainly. Curiosity was coursing inside her though and she flipped the lid open. The ring was in a silver setting, with a diamond near the size of her pinky nail in it. _Wow…Go Nick._ She sighed a bit, feeling a lot of conflicting feelings look at it. She knew this ring was bought for Juliette. That Nick had bought this over three years ago in the hopes of asking her to marry him. That being a Grimm had continually put that hope off. And now it might be forever gone.

The fact that part of her was _happy_ about that made her feel awful. _He’s not going to want you. He loves Juliette, always has. He’s not going just decide you’re the better option._ The voice in her head was cruel in its directness but she knew it was right. She looked at the ring again. Even when he’d assumed they’d get married; Collin never bothered with a ring. She’d figured she’d never get one. That was fine, really it was…She didn’t want one. Marriage probably wasn’t in the cards for her even now. Who would she marry?

_Why is it on my finger?_

She started, not realizing she’d taken the ring out and slipped it onto her left ring finger. Her entire face heated up with a blush as she looked at the sparkly bauble on her finger. Her imagination went wild a moment of questions and rings and weddings and the face of the groom was so, so familiar. _What the hell are you doing?! This is pathetic! Take it off!_ She quickly moved to pull it off and cursed when it didn’t move. “Oh God no, please!” she muttered, trying to twist and pull. “Shit, shit, _shit!_ ” she gasped when it popped off and she hit her elbow on the headboard. Cursing a blue streak, she glared down at the ring. The guilt and the disappointment rolling back through her stomach made her sigh. “What am I doing…?”

Putting the ring back in the box, she quickly set it on the nightstand. Grabbing the vambrace and the letter, she went back down and put them in her bag before heading out. Locking the door behind her, she put the key on her keyring for safe keeping as she headed to the car. She didn’t notice anyone watching her as she climbed in and drove off.

\--------------------

Renard sighed as he pulled up to the spice shop. He stepped out with the hatbox in his hands and walked to the door. Monroe was alert and walked over to him immediately. “Thanks for coming,” he said, shutting the door behind Renard, flipping the sign and drawing the shade down. They didn’t really want to advertise that they were meeting with the chief of police to get magical hexenbiest items from him.

“You brought them,” Rosalee sighed, looking at the box as he set it on the counter.

“I did. I probably don't need to warn you, but I'm going to anyway. Be very careful with these.” He said. He opened the box and pulled out the conical hat and the open book to lay them down carefully.

“Right, and we can't close the book,” Rosalee said, looking at the open pages in relief.

“No. Nick know you're doing this?” he asked, looking between them uncertainly.

“No, not exactly…We don't want to give him false hope,” Rosalee sighed.

“Well, you realize there may not be any hope,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, well, we still got to try,” Monroe sighed. “I mean, we were all part of what happened to Juliette, so...”

“Have you talked to Juliette?” Rosalee asked.

He thought about her throwing him across the room, then before that seducing him into a rather heated night together. Guilt still rested on that one, though it was hard for him to resist her. Attraction to a powerful Hexenbiest was hardwired into him he was fairly sure. It’s what made resisting Catherine Schade so hard, when she played Mrs. Robinson. But he knew in the end he should’ve been in control of himself in both instances, even when they pushed him. “Yeah, she's... not the same.”

“We know…”

He nodded and sighed. “Well, be careful. You may do more harm than good.” Turning, he went to head back out. At the station, he was surprised to see the maid who had brought him a message from Adalind before waiting for him. “Ms. Flores…?”

“Hi, yes,” she said. She still seemed nervous but stood straight at attention. “I have another letter from Miss Schade.” She held it out and Renard took it as he went into his office. Opening it up, it was in German again.

_Sean,_

_I need to get out of here. Kenneth doesn’t care if I live or die and I think he’d prefer the latter. If you can help me, I can help you and we’ll find Diana together. If you don’t I’m either going to die or end up on the Royal’s most wanted list._

_I need to get out of here. Any suggestions are welcome at this point._

_Adalind_

He frowned but nodded and wrote a response. “Give this to her.”

“Alright…”

“You seem okay being our messenger.”

“I just…want to do what I can to help,” she said. “She’s a very lonely woman I think…”

“…Yes, I think you’re right. Thank you.”

Susanna nodded and took the letter, heading back out quickly. Sighing, Renard sat down and pursed his lips as he tried to think what their next move should actually be.

Nick meanwhile arrived at Central Holding—which was a lot starker than their cells at the 89th. The jailer led him to one of the cells, where he saw Juliette lounging back on the bed. “Thank you…” The jailer nodded with a flash of sympathy before leaving them to talk on either side of the bars. “What happened?” He was surprised by the lack of emotion in his voice. Maybe he’d expected this, deep down. That she’d do something and get arrested. He just didn’t want to admit it.

Juliette stayed lying down but turned to look at him. Her expression was bored rather than relieved. “Didn't you read my arrest report?”

“I did. I want to hear it from you.”

She sighed now, sitting up. “What do you want to hear, Nick? That I didn't do it? That it was all a mistake? That I'm still the same sweet gal you fell in love with?” She said the last with a painfully fake chipper smile.

Nick felt the frustration and guilt well up and he leaned into the barred door with his hands around them. It felt like he was the one trapped, walls closing in. “Why are you doing this?”

“I guess I'm just trying to be the best Hexenbiest I can,” she said dryly.

“You don't have to prove to me that this is my fault,” he said almost desperately.

She quirked a brow. “That's what you think I'm doing?”

“Juliette, you're not even giving us a chance to figure this out!”

“What do you want to figure out, Nick? How a Grimm and a Hexenbiest are just gonna live happily ever after?” she asked snidely, moving towards the bars.

“You don't scare me. And I'm not letting go,” he said. And his tone was unwavering.

“Aren't you scared of what you might do to me?” she asked lightly.

“I could never hurt you, Juliette,” he said softly, sincerely.

Juliette wavered a moment, feeling a bit like she did when she hurt Stepenov. The guilt, the confusion, wondering why she was so intent to be the tough girl. “I wish I could say the same…But I just don't know anymore, because deep down, I do blame you for what's happened to me, and part of me loves you for it, because I have never felt like this before.” She smiled a little as the guilt seemed to just evaporate, replaced by the elation of her power. Nick frowned again and she just smiled more. “It's ironic, isn't it? You've been the special one for so long. You're connected to a world that most people will never know or understand. You and Sloane. It’s brought you both so much pain, but you can’t leave it behind even when you have the chance.”

“Juliette—”

“I wondered why sometimes…why you would want to live in that world. It’s fun when you’re looking at pictures in a book but then you get face to face and it’s terrifying. But I tried. I tried for you to make the best of it. Even when it hurt, even when it scared me. And I felt that way before, just knowing you were a cop and a homicide detective. Seeing how it could affect you, wondering why you’d do it. Because you’re a noble, good man is what I told myself, but I wonder if that’s true. I wonder if it isn’t because you want that bit of power that comes from a hunt. If it’s a Grimm trait.”

“It’s not like that,” Nick said.

“Isn’t it? Sloane enjoys it too, even if she’s playing nice now. You both have powers we didn’t understand, and you acted like it’s a curse yet couldn’t leave it behind. And now I know, and I understand, and I don't want to give it up, just like you didn't want to give it up. And now I know why. Once you're in it and you've... seen it and tasted it and... lived it, you can't go back. Everyone else just seems blind.” Nick frowned but couldn’t deny there was a ring of truth. He had no idea how to live without his powers anymore when they were gone. He felt helpless, lost in the dark. Juliette smiled, knowing she’d hit the nail on the head. “I like being more than human. Better than human. You know what happened to my parents, what my mother went through, and I and now I don’t have to feel helpless ever again. I like this power, Nick, and I know you do too.”

“Stop it!” he shouted, slamming a hand against bars.

The smile faded. “I can't.” He took a breath, trying to calm down and she watched him. It was so easy to get under his skin like this. She reached up and gently placed her fingers over the back of his hand gripping one of the horizontal bars. “You really think that you can just... take off your clothes and crawl into bed with me again even if you did change me back?” He looked at her, entranced by the tenderness he remembered and wanted. Then she woged and he gasped as if burned and stumbled back. “And not see this when you close your eyes?” He stared and then looked away. She woged back. “You know, I let them arrest me. I just wanted to see if you'd come rescue me,” she said softly.

Nick steeled himself, collecting his resolve as he stepped back close to her. “I'm not letting you out, if that's what you mean by rescue you. It's safer for you in here.”

She arched her brow again, smiling in amusement. “And safer for you. You know Nick, I think you really might be jealous of me…”

“Jealous?” Nick asked, confused.

“You work so hard to fight wesen. Maybe you have those eyes, and a few nice physical buffs, but you Grimms still have human bodies. They can be cut, poisoned, burned…I mean, maybe I can be too, but I have real power now.”

“Yeah and look what you’re doing with it. Sloane said you wanted to help people, and you’re in here for assault. Assault on a guy talking to you at a bar.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess I did forget to mention that…He didn’t like my new face either,” she pouted.

“It’s not your new face!”

“It is. And you know, maybe I don’t want to help. Maybe I just want to do what I want. Whatever that is. Why do I need to use this power for other people?”

“Because you’re a good person.”

“No, I was a “good” person because I was weak. Now I’m not. And Now I don’t need you to save me all the time, and that just eats at you. Because you don’t get to play the hero anymore for the damsel in distress and I don’t just go along with the flow. Because it was that or be alone with the knowledge anyone could be a wesen who wanted to kill me,” she said.

“…That’s not why you stayed,” he said quietly.

“…No. It wasn’t the whole reason, but it was part of it. The other part was not wanting to lose you. But that ship’s sailed, huh? Because we want different things now.”

Nick frowned more, feeling his heart constrict. “Juliette, please…”

“I’m not going to make myself weak again. Not even for you,” she said. She turned and went back to the bed at the wall, laying down facing away from him. The words hurt a bit for her too, but it was the truth.

Nick watched her back for a few moments before turning to leave. He needed to think…but he wasn’t sure what trail to follow in his brain. Save her. Don’t save her. Stay. Let go. Nothing seemed right anymore…

\-------------------

The six-hour drive to Wildred gave Sloane maybe too much time to think as well. Even with music playing, she was still thinking about Nick. _Have I ever been this preoccupied by someone? No, never let myself be. Even with Collin I never felt a romantic spark…what is it about Nick? He’s kind…but not as much of a bleeding heart as I thought when we first met. He’s tough too. He makes me laugh…he makes me think…he makes me want to do better. I’ve never really had someone like that. I mean there’s Thomas, but…that was never romantic to me. Dancing with Thomas in high school I treated like a secret, like a different life alongside my real one. He couldn’t ever know about being a Grimm. But I didn’t have to worry about that—Nick is one too. He’s already in the life. But that’s not why I…I love him, it’s just part of it. If that was all, I could’ve made it work with Collin. It’s because Nick is…Nick…_

_Oh god, I am sounding so sappy…it’s not going anywhere._

**_Stupid girl, do you think we can ever actually be in love?_ **

She gripped the steering wheel tighter at Dierdre’s voice in her head. It often cropped up when she didn’t want it. It had been the strongest in her head for years telling her how to be a Grimm. It had gotten quieter, fainter, nearly gone before she showed up again. But seeing her made that voice bust through her defenses and try to beat her down as much as the woman herself did. It didn’t help she’d said those very words to her several times growing up when she’d accidentally even glanced at something romantic. Couples, valentines, flowers— ** _You can’t have that._** God forbid someone flirt with her. It was a lot of eye rolling and brush offs if she couldn’t’ use it to her advantage because what would be the point of starting anything?

And what about now?

**_What about now?_ **

Sighing, she tried to quiet her thoughts. She was about to be 30. Maybe it wasn’t too late if she wanted to find love, but did she want it? She was sure she could be happy without all that. When the infatuation died down it’d all go back to being just background radiation.

Getting into town mid-afternoon, she smiled as she drove through. The bigger name businesses were still there, but so were the small ones that had been struggling for a while. They seemed like new life actually got breathed into them. The Redline Diner still had its makeover she saw last time, but it had a sandwich board outside with chalk advertisements of reasonable prices and food compared to before. Including famous fries. But she’d stopped for lunch on the way and kept heading through to the wooded hills beyond the town.

Heading up the road in the woods, she got to the gate and got out to unlock it. She took a moment to look up at the house. A lot had changed once again since her last visit. Every time she came back it felt like she was a different person. But the house was still the same…

Driving back up to the detached garage, she headed inside, deactivated the alarm, and started opening windows to air it out. She didn’t need the heater since it was spring, but it was still stuffy after being closed up for over a year. She took the sheets off the furniture and took them to the laundry room. She was about to head to the basement to go ahead and start looking through her grandmother’s books when she paused. From the door down she could see the kitchen. She could see the spot where her grandmother had been killed. The blood had been expertly cleaned, but she knew it was there. In the Formica counter, there was still a mark of a claw. She reached up, not sure when she’d walked to it, and lined it up with her fingers. Twenty years, it had been there…

The choice didn’t feel conscious and yet it felt right when she gripped the counter tops and summoned her Grimm strength to wrench the counter from the cabinet. It splintered from age and her strength and she gasped as it pulled away and she stumbled back. She stared in shock for a few moments before taking a breath and hauling it across the floor to the back door, through the covered porch, and flung out the back door with roar of effort. It went spinning like a wonky, rectangular frisbee before falling with a thunk to the ground. Going back, she pulled another piece off with her bare hands and did the same. When all the countertops were wrecked she went to the garage and looked through it till she found the sledgehammer in the corner and dusted it off. It was rusty, but it didn’t need to be clean to do what she needed it to do.

As she was moving back towards the door, a jeep pulled up and Mim and Jean got out. “…Sloane? Sweety?”

“Hi,” she said, marching back inside. They quickly followed and their jaws dropped when they saw what she’d started.

“Sloane! What are you doing!?”

“Something I should’ve a long time ago,” she said, pulling the hammer back and smashing it through the door of one of the uppers.

“Honey, stop!” Mim said, quickly going over.

“It needs to go!” Sloane said. “I’ve left it long enough! I can’t…can’t be here and not think about it, but I don’t want to see it anymore.”

They paused, looking at one another before sighing. “We understand. We’ve wanted to redo it too but couldn’t since it was in your name. But...you gotta at least put on some goggles.” Sloane looked at them and they smiled before they all started laughing a little. The first time someone laughed in that kitchen in two decades.

So, the afternoon turned into an impromptu demo day. Mim and Jean got her some gloves and goggles, they unhooked the sink even though the water was already off since she hadn’t turned it back on, unhooked the stove and fridge and pushed them all out so they could swing hammers and rip the cabinets up. Jean also brought a heat gun she used in her jewelry and they worked at pulling up the old vinyl floors. Sloane had feared blood leaked to the plywood below, but it was thankfully clear. It was all cleared up by sundown and they laid in the living room next to the bare subfloor, panting.

“So…did you have like a plan in mind for this?” Mim asked.

“Not really…it just kind of happened,” Sloane sighed. “I guess I better start figuring out what to do about it…New cabinets, counters, floor…”

“Well, you can plug the fridge in still, and the microwave in here.”

“Or she can come eat at our house,” Jean said meaningfully.

“Or that.”

Sloane chuckled. “I’ll take you up on that tonight…But first I’m going to turn the water on and take a shower.”

“Oh, good idea, I worked up a sweat. And I smell like wet bear when I sweat.” Mim sighed.

“I like it,” Jean smiled. Mim smiled back with a blush.

“And before you two get gross, I’m out. I’ll see you at your place,” she said, standing and heading to turn the water on outside. She’d have to get something to haul all the broken bits of cabinets away too she realized. She wished she’d thought this through a bit more, but something just came over her…

 _The outside could use a little work too…But I mean, I’m not staying here, so why?_ She knew the answer deep down. Even with all the tragedy, this place was her home through some of the happiest years of her life. And Oma’s home. One day, maybe it’d be hers again. If not hers, someone’s home.

_Your children?_

Sloane grunted at the thought and shook her head. She was still having weird thoughts.

It took a little while for the water heater to fill after she kicked it on— _Put tankless water heater on list, might as well—_ and go take a shower. She paused in going into the bathroom and looked at the door that led to her bedroom. She hadn’t been back in since she was a child. _…Not yet._ Sighing, she went in to wash up and then out to drive to Mim and Jean’s for dinner.

\--------------------------

Adalind was pacing slightly. She was still pretty much locked up in her room. Not with locks, but with men at the doors. Kenneth wasn’t sharing anything with her, but she could listen in on occasion. He was focusing on Juliette and tracking her down. He apparently felt that she was going to be more useful with her connections to Nick and Kelly. Just earlier she’d overheard him and Rispoli talking. And one phrase made her realize how he viewed her.

_“Maybe we can trade her Adalind for her help. It might be the best thing Adalind can do for us.”_

It wasn’t a joke, even with the light tone. He was serious. Considering the gargoyle incident, she had no doubt Juliette would try and kill her. She might even succeed even with Adalind being ready. And the worst thing is, she couldn’t deny what Henrietta said was true. Going to the royals and doing what they asked, to get back a child they didn’t even have, brought her to a point where she was trapped like an animal to be slaughtered for convenience. Her actions brought her here. Put her in danger, put Renard in danger…put Diana in danger. She’d made choices in her desperation and grief that only made things worse. She kept thinking it would work out, that she was too smart to be pushed around by people. Even Royals. Now she knew that pushing wasn’t what they did—they steamrolled. And she’d be flattened before she could get away.

“Miss Schade?”

She looked up and smiled when Susanna stepped in. “Hey! How are you?”

“I’m doing well…” She set the sheets she brought down. “I’ve brought you some fresh sheets, like you asked.”

“Thank you. How’s your daughter?”

She smiled. “Doing well, thank you. I used the tip you gave me to get her some new shoes, and she loves them.”

“A little fashionista, huh?”

“Oh yes,” she laughed. “I help her make a lot of her clothes and she’s got her own style. Lots of bright colors and so forth. We don’t know how to make shoes though. I’d been trying to pick up extra shifts to get some nice ones for her for her birthday, but what you gave me let me do that and spend more time with her…I’m really grateful,” she said honestly.

Adalind felt a touch of jealousy that she got to be with her daughter. But she sympathized as well. Susanna was the maid for three floors, and over a dozen rooms on each, and the penthouse. She was a busy woman. They’d talked and Adalind felt chagrined she’d never really considered how much work a maid did. She smiled. “I’m glad…”

Susanna smiled and took the pillowcase off the top and Adalind saw the note resting there. She smiled and picked it up, reading the note from Renard.

_A,_

_I’ll look into what can be done to get you out of there. It’s not going to be simple as Kenneth is known to be paranoid as well as ruthless. I can’t go to Nick and the others for help so I’ll have to find someone else who can try and get you out. Keep your head down till then, I’ll find a way to contact you when we’re ready._

_S_

She sighed and pocketed the note. She’d hoped for a more concrete plan, but she believed Sean when he said he’d figure something out. “Thank you…”

Susanna just smiled and quickly remade the bed. Adalind then handed her another 100 bill and though she hesitated, Susanna took it with another smile and left.

\--------------

This was certainly one of the stranger cases Nick had been on. After meeting with Juliette, he’d gotten a call from Wu that another man was found dead with similar wounds. His name was Declan Henry Burke, an auto mechanic found dead in his shop. He called Hank and Deputy Farris and they all met at the scene to go over it. The mailman had found the body, throat torn out and blood all over the garage floor with the door wide open. It was fairly fresh, likely from that morning. The man had a very similar record to Kilburn they found, and they wondered if there were any other similarities. Wu went to print out contact pages from Burke’s computer so they could cross reference names to anyone who knew Kilburn.

Hank and Farris updated him on what they found: Farris’ contact was a man named Hector Ballou, a tribal spiritual guide and dream reader. He’d been a good friend of Simon’s father, Gus, but they’d only recently reconnected. Simon was out on a power quest to try and connect to his spirit guide, and to his heritage. Hector hoped it brought him some closure from witnessing his father’s death as well. It did mean that Simon was currently out in the woods with no cellphone, fasting and getting little sleep while he communed with the spirits of the natural world.

They began comparing names and after an hour of reading from both contact lists and Wu looking up records on the computer, they had one lead: Max McClay. Wu ran his name through the system and found that Kilburn was once arrested with Declan, and Declan was once arrested with McClay. He was either their killer, or their next victim they theorized.

After getting his information back, of course McClay also lived in the woods. The man had apparently become a paranoid survivalist. The sun set as they drove up to his house. They all drew their weapons, moving up towards the door slowly. “Police! McClay, are you in there? Come out with your hands—” Hank started. His words were cut short as McClay as they recognized him from his last mugshot was thrown through the window with a scream.

So…not the killer.

“I’m going in,” Hank said.

“I’ll cover the back,” Nick nodded, heading around.

“You stay with McClay,” Hank said to Farris. She nodded, going over to check over him while Hank kicked in the door and raced inside. He moved through carefully, gun at the ready. There was signs of a struggle and broken furniture everywhere, a very illegal looking gun being cleaned on the table and another on the floor. He heard something moving down the hall though and followed the sound. Then he heard the back door open and raced towards it.

Outside, Nick was waiting in view of the back door when it opened and something he’d never seen before stepped out. It reminded him slightly of the Phantänzchen he’d encountered last week—wispy, ethereal. But not humanoid. This creature was wearing a man’s clothes, a red flannel shirt and jeans. But was covered in translucent glowing white fir that reminded him of the moon. It’s face was like a big cat’s, a Lynx he was fairly sure, but two corkscrew horns rising from his head. He ran out the door just as Nick was running towards it and he raised his gun. “Stop!” It skidded to halt and growled low, its jowls pulling back to show sharp teeth. Nick didn’t flinch, eyeing it. “I'm a Grimm. I know you're Wesen. Get down on the ground. Put your hands behind your head.” The creature didn’t flinch, just snarling at him. His head whipped around when Hank came through the door. “Hank, I got him! He's Wesen…I think. He looked at me; he didn't react.”

It snarled, looking between them both. Hank was watching it, shocked. “I can see it too, but...”

It turned then and leapt with shocking height up onto the roof in a single bound, running over it to get away.

“What the hell?” Hank whispered. Nick was already running back around the house and Hank followed the other direction in their normal pincer maneuver. By the time they got around though, Farris was watching the woods intently.

“Did you see where he went?” Hank asked as they ran up.

She nodded, looking confused and on edge. “Yeah, that way, into the woods. Whatever that was, it's gone now.”

“How's McClay?” Nick asked.

“He's passed out. I called the paramedics. Something jumped off the roof!” she said, still in disbelief.

“What did you see?” Hank asked.

“I'm not sure. Looked like something I'd only heard about in stories.” Nick and Hank looked at one another, grimacing at the fact she must be in on it now. “I don't want to sound crazy…”

“You won't. We saw it too,” Hank said. Nick nodded. He wasn’t sure how to explain it away right now.

Farris took a breath, calming and looking determined. “I think we should talk to Hector again.”

\-------------

Sloane woke the next morning in her grandmother’s old room, where she usually slept. Heading down, she froze when she saw the kitchen before remembering. She still felt a little silly for suddenly just ripping it all out, but it was cathartic she supposed. Luckily Mim had sent her home with a plate of leftover homemade soft tacos to heat up and have for breakfast, kept safe in the living room fridge and heated in the microwave on the coffee table. It was kind of convenient… _No, can’t keep them there._

After finishing, she headed down to the basement to start going through more of the collection. They’d focused on the books about wesen and weapons last time. But there was another shelf full of books on other different things—poisons, potions, spells, etc. She’d decided not to scan them a year ago because she thought it wasn’t pressing. She should’ve realized that invited trouble. Taking a few up, she started going through them and scanning the most interesting bits with her travel scanner like Nick had done. There were definitely interesting bits, but after a full morning of work she didn’t find anything close to what Juliette was going through.

Sighing, she decided to get dressed and go get a few groceries and the like in town. Just as she was about to leave the phone rang. She felt her heart flutter at the _Nick_ that popped up and sighed at herself. Getting that under control, she answered. “Hey, Nick.”

“Hey. How’s it going?”

“Uh…just started, technically. I confess I got a little distracted yesterday…”

“Distracted?” He asked, more curious than judging.

“Yeah, I uh…had an impromptu urge to renovate the kitchen. By tearing everything out.”

“…That’s…Wow,” he said, chuckling in amusement and confusion. “You managed that in one afternoon?”

“I was determined and it’s not a big kitchen. Mim and Jean helped too. But I’ve started through the books this morning, no luck yet…”

“Yeah…Not much here either. Juliette got arrested.”

“What?” she barked, shocked.

“Yeah. For assault. She threw a guy at a bar around a bit…Magically, though no one put it that way in the report.”

“…She’s getting worse,” Sloane said.

He heaved a great sigh. “Yeah, I know…I went and talked with her. She’s all over the place but she’s made it clear she wants to stay a hexenbiest…”

“…And what do you think about that?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I don’t want to make choices for her…but I also don’t think she can stay like this. She’s not big on the “do good” idea anymore, now it’s more doing whatever she pleases. Even if it means hurting people.”

“Yeah…I’ll keep looking.” 

“And I’m going to let her stay locked up.”

“Really?”

“It hurts me too, but like I told Hank, at least I know where she is like this…”

“Yeah…I understand. There’s no real right answer to that right now.”

He hummed. “Oh, um, that case is going sideways too…”

“How so?”

“Well, another man ended up dead. We figured out they had a connection to a third and went to go check him out and managed to interrupt him also about to be killed by…something we haven’t seen before.”

“I mean, I’ve seen a lot…” she pointed out.

“Ever hear of a Mishipeshu?”

“…Okay, what is it?” she sighed.

“A Native American spirit.”

“Spirit?” she asked dubiously.

“Hey, be skeptical, but we saw it and it’s definitely not a normal wesen. Hank could see it, Deputy Farris could see it, it jumped up to the top of a house…”

“One or two story?”

“One.”

“Eh, s’okay I guess,” she said, shrugging.

Nick did manage a laugh. “I forgot how high your standards can be. But we talked with Hector Ballou—he’s the local tribal spiritual guide. Apparently this spirit is more common to the Ojibwe tribe, around Lake Superior.”

“Little far from home…”

“Well, the boy we think is at the center of this, Simon, is also part of that tribe. His father was Multnomah like Hector, and his mother was Ojibwe.”

“Well, can we ask them about it?”

“They’re both dead,” Nick sighed. “His mother died in childbirth and his father was murdered when he was five. Beaten to death in a road rage incident, no one was ever caught…though Hector thinks it was racially motivated. Gus was fairly outspoken about tribal issues, trying to make things better for them.”

“And some people don’t like that,” Sloane nodded, sighing in disappointment at the world.

“Yeah. Simon witnessed the attack, but he was only five.”

She grunted in sympathetic disgust. “So… you think then he summoned this spirit and started killing these men?”

“I’m not sure, but the Mishipeshu is definitely what we’re dealing with. Hector had a book with a picture of exactly what we saw. Like a big cat with these spiral horns...And Simon is the only like we have to the first victim—he went to the school the victim was a janitor at.”

“Huh…Man, kind of wish I was there.”

“Well, we’re about to go do something a bit weirder…”

“How much weirder?”

“Hector is going to guide us into the dream world so we can better understand Simon.”

“…Dream…world?”

“Hey, I’m willing to give it a try. I’ve done weirder things for a case.”

“Yeah, I did worry you would get an infection from that pierced ear,” she said teasingly.

“Don’t remind me, took forever to close back up…”

“I’m kind of miffed that I’m researching and renovating, and you get to go on a dream land adventure.”

“I’m not Little Nemo,” Nick laughed.

“Oh my god, _Little Nemo…_ Oma used to read that to me,” she sighed. She hadn’t thought about that in years. Memories that fell by the wayside growing up. “ _Tin Tin_ too…” She looked up the stairs. The hard back comic book collections were likely still in her room somewhere… _I think Oma had one singed by Hergé, actually._

“My mom used call me that when she put me to bed…” he said wistfully.

“…I can’t imagine Kelly doing that, but it sounds adorable.”

He chuckled. “I should get going, I just wanted to update you. Especially if this goes south…”

“Don’t jinx yourselves,” she said. “…Hey Nick? You know, whatever happens, whatever you decide with Juliette…I’ll support you.”

“…And if I make the wrong choice?” He asked quietly.

“Sometimes we don’t know what that is till later. You just gotta go with your gut at times when nothing else makes sense.”

“I don’t like what my gut is saying…but you might be right,” he sighed.

“I’ll keep looking. I’m just going to go get some food first.”

“Thanks…I’ll see you later.”

“Later.” She hanged up and sighed. She felt stupid in a way for saying that. Because honestly, there was a small, horrible part of her that hoped they didn’t work things out. But Nick didn’t need to know that.

Heading out, she went to town and had lunch at the Redline. Mr. Morrison’s family had returned and were running it, complete with his recipes. They kept the nice look that the Summer Bridge company had given it, though brought back some of the nostalgic bits as well such as the baskets with paper instead of the heavy plates. She smiled and hoped she could bring Nick back sometime, and the others as well if they did come to visit.

In town she headed to the store and had nearly been knocked over when a young girl ran over and hugged her. It made her tense but then she blinked when she realized she recognized her. “You’re…”

“Araceli!” Another woman came running up, her dark hair cut short now and wearing the apron of the Greeson’s Grocers she was about to walk into. She looked embarrassed and terrified as she rushed over to gently pull her daughter away. “What are you doing, don’t go hugging strangers—Oh!” She gasped but then smiled. “Miss Larson, hello!”

“Hello yourselves, Matie,” she smiled. She recognized the two Langen Ohren she’d helped rescue from a wendigo compound, and from her fellow Grimm. “Looks like you settled in well.”

“I love it here!” Araceli said. “I get to go to school, and I have a lot of friends! And I can walk to have lunch with mama sometimes! She’s a manager here!”

“I remember hearing that,” she smiled.

Matie smiled as well as she hugged her daughter. “It really is wonderful…I can’t thank you enough for sending us here. We’ve made a lot of good friends. It feels like we may have a future here.”

“I’m glad,” she said honestly.

“Is Miss Rubel with you?”

“Ah, no. She’s struck out on her own,” Sloane sighed. “But I’ll let her know you’re doing well. She’ll be happy to hear that I’m sure.”

They smiled and Matie then patted her daughter’s shoulder. “Well, I need to get you back to school.”

“But mama…”

“No buts, I don’t want you to lose your privilege for me to bring you here for lunch sometimes.”

“Go on. I’m going to be picking up some groceries.”

“You’re staying here?”

“For a little while. This is actually where I grew up too.”

“Yes, Mim and Jean have showed us pictures.”

Sloane flushed a bit and sighed. “I’m sure they have…”

Matie smile and they waved as she walked her daughter back to school. It was only a block away—though she’d never gone to it, she was sure that’s where the middle school still stood. It was strange seeing them, but nice as well. She’d forgotten sometimes how many people she pointed towards Wildred.

After collecting her groceries and Matie ensuring she got a discount, Sloane started driving back for home. As she did, lights flashed behind her as the Sheriff’s car came up behind her. She groaned, wondering what the problem was, but pulled over. The Sheriff got out and Sloane made sure her knife was well hidden and grabbed her insurance as she rolled down the window. The Sheriff came up to the side and she didn’t even look as she opened her wallet to get her license. “Is there a problem?” she asked.

“A slight one. I couldn’t let you go without saying hi.”

Sloane blinked and leaned over to look up. “…Frankie?!”

Frankie Gonzales smiled and leaned down a bit. She almost didn’t recognize her. The woman who had been a nervous wreck, unable to sleep because of her traumatic assault, looked well rested and healthy. She had on a Sheriff's jacket, the six-pointed star on her chest noting her as “Deputy Sheriff”. “Hey there, Detective Larson.”

Sloane smiled and got out of the car. “It’s good to see you!”

“You too.” The shook hands and Frankie smiled. “I obviously took your advice after the trial. Got promoted to deputy pretty quick.”

“I’m glad to see it. Is the new Sherriff good?” Sloane asked.

“Sheriff Vadaz is pretty out there…but good. Better than your last one according to your Aunts.”

“Pretty sure a damp sponge would’ve done more work to clean up this town than Grover,” Sloane said. Frankie laughed and Sloane smiled again. “You look good.”

She smiled and took a breath. “After the trial…well, vindication feels good. The fact McCabe is in jail on murder doesn’t hurt either. I'm waiting on word about a suit against the military. But finding a good job and a good councilor out here helped the most. Managing the PTSD a little better now…”

Sloane smiled. “I am really, really glad to hear that.”

“You look good too.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. I don’t know, you seem in a good mood.”

Sloane shrugged slightly. “I guess…first time I’ve really gotten to see my old hometown again. How it should be.”

Frankie smiled and opened her mouth but paused when her radio crackled. “Gonzales? We got a 415 at Jackson park.”

“A fight?” Sloane said.

“Yeah, probably a couple of townies. Got a lot more visitors than you might’ve been used to, and they like to bring trouble.” She grabbed the radio. “10-4, in route.” She let go and smiled apologetically. “Well, I gotta take that.”

“That’s okay, I have groceries anyway. Maybe we’ll catch up later.”

Frankie smiled and nodded before heading back to her car. Sloane smiled as well and climbed back into hers to drive back home and put her groceries away. She’d gotten mostly microwave dinners and ready-made food since she couldn’t cook anything now. Enough for a few days to be safe. She was just finishing figuring what she wanted for that evening when her phone rang again. This time it was Mim’s number. “Hey Aunt Mim.”

“Hey, Girlie. Got some bad news.”

“What kind?” she asked, alert.

“A friend of ours in Eureka had an accident. Got hit by a car.”

“Oh geeze, that’s bad,” Sloane grimaced.

“Yeah. He’ll live, but his legs busted. He’s an old fart like us and his kids live halfway across the country, so we’re going to go check on him and get him settled back at home till they can get there. We’ll be gone a few days…”

“Ah, I see. That’s fine, really. I’m going to be cooped up inside reading most of the day.”

“I know, but we wanted to spend more time with you…”

She smiled. “We just spent a week together.”

“We’ll always want to spend time with you,” Jean said. “And with you’re birthday just days away…”

“I appreciate that, but it’s fine. We can celebrate another time; your friend comes first.”

“Thanks. We’ll keep in touch.”

“I’m going to email you cabinet ideas!”

“She’s going to email you more than that, trust me,” Mim added with a fake hushed whisper.

Sloane laughed a bit. “Sounds good. Drive safe.”

“We will.” They hanged up and Sloane sighed a bit. Eureka wasn’t too far, but it was kind of lonely now knowing they weren’t just going to be down the road. _I’ve gotten spoiled having friends just minutes away…_

\----------------------

The rest of the day and into the night was eventful to say the least. After preparing a sweat lodge and some sort of potion, Hector performed a ritual meant to get them connected to Simon. Hank and Farris both drank the potion, but Hector stopped Nick before he could. He knew, intuitively, there was something different about Nick, and that this might be dangerous for him unlike the others.

It ended up being more dangerous for Hank though. After receiving a necklace Simon’s father wore and had been passed to Simon after his death, he connected a little too fully. It was as though he really became Simon, but five-year-old Simon. In his father’s truck. Watching, as three men beat his father to death. Nick realized that was indeed the connection, that the Mishipeshu was killing the men who murdered Gus through Simon’s body. When Farris started having a bad reaction to the heat and the potion, Nick took her outside. He heard Hank screaming in anguish and agony— “They killed my dad!”—and before he could go in, Hank ran out and actually sent Nick sprawling to go through him.

Hector figured that Simon’s memories were still in control, so it made sense that he’d go to his father’s grave in a remote part of the mountain. All three of them set off to find it, arriving to find Simon sprawled on the ground with a hurt ankle. He must’ve hurt it jumping from the roof last night given the state it was in. But he had no memory of that, or anything else. He was confused. And next to a totem honoring Gus was a totem of the Mishipeshu.

From there, they set a minor trap. They went and got McClay at his home that night and had him wait in Farris’ car. He wasn’t happy, but he wasn’t given a choice. Simon sat to wait with Hector nearby and Nick watching the front door. He saw Hank creeping, stalking like a cat, to the door and through. He was surprised and confused to see Simon in the house. Then further confused by Hector. Nick quickly went in to try and talk him down, but the Mishipeshu’s spirit was strong. The ensuing fight was hard, and Nick was reminded that Hank was no slouch when it came to hand to hand combat either. Though he was still fairly sure that the spirit was giving him a boost. They threw each other around the room a few times, before Hank had him pinned to the wall and was choking the life out of him.

Just before Nick blacked out, Hector came up and blew a powder into Hank’s face. It made him reel and he shuddered before the Mishpeshu’s spirit—tall, lanky, Lynx-faced with its horns standing tall and proud—left him. It hissed, looking confused before it moved through the wall and disappeared. Nick and Hank were both left panting from exhaustion. But more than that, there was still an anger in Hank. He’d witnessed Gus’s murder as if he were there—as if it were his own father murdered, and it felt that way. When they got out, he threatened McClay, but he knew as well as they did they had no evidence. Just hearsay and a teenager who even if he did remember, it had been 13 years. It left a hollow feeling in all of them as they left. But even if they investigated fully, it could lead to Simon being blamed for the murders of Kilburn and Burke. As much as it ate at both of them, Nick and Hank opted to drop it for now. Farris wasn’t as convinced but agreed that pulling Simon back into it wasn’t fair. Hector was going to take him in—something he’d wanted to do back when Gus first died but the state hadn’t allowed it. He felt Simon had a lot of potential as a future Spirit Guide and hoped to train him, after he’d had time to process it all.

More disturbing was that in the morning, McClay was found dead. The same way as the others. But Simon had been in the hospital getting his ankle x-rayed and cast. While he was technically a victim, Nick and Hank didn’t feel much of a pressing issue to really go in and try to solve it quickly. After all, killers got away plenty of times…until something caught up with them.

“Honestly, I think he’s lucky,” Nick said.

“Lucky?” Wu asked in surprise. They’d filled him in on what happened after the initial look at the scene.

“Yeah. If Sloane were here, I think she’d have done worst to him.”

Hank smirked a bit. “Hell yeah she would’ve…It won’t bring Gus back, but I’m still personally a bit more satisfied.”

“Can’t say I blame you. But also, kind of wish I’d seen this spirit…” Wu said.

“Sloane will be pretty miffed she missed it too,” Nick chuckled. It was a little strained. He’d visited Juliette last night. She’d been asleep when he came, and he watched her for a short time. She looked…normal as she slept. No hexenbiest, no change in her personality. But their visit earlier that day kept replaying in his mind like movie. Her words echoing, hurting and reverberating. His mind wouldn’t let them go and it was like touching a cut to feel the sting over and over. It cut deeper going home alone once again. He'd left without waking her up, not wanting to get back into it.

The next day he went to the shop to explain to Monroe and Rosalee what happened with her. They were horrified, but also worried.

“If Juliette is going to bars and beating people up and going to jail...Are you gonna leave her there?” Monroe asked.

“If I get her out, she could kill somebody,” Nick sighed.

“Did she say anything along the lines of, like, "Sorry, I didn't mean to beat up folks I'd never met before"?”

“No. She said she's having fun.” He let some of the annoyance and frustration into his voice and Rosalee gasped with a grimace while Monroe bit at his thumb.

“Oh, Nick, this is not looking good,” Rosalee said.

“You guys haven't found anything that can stop this?” Hank asked.

“This is a unique, like, once-in-a-lifetime, "doesn't ever seem to have happened before" kind of event... conundrum,” Monroe said awkwardly.

“We haven't found anything that works, and we've looked through everything,” Rosalee sighed.

“We're not giving up,” Monroe said quickly. “It's just, I mean, we have no idea where to go from here…”

“Except Adalind.” Everyone paused and looked at Rosalee in shock. “She might be the only one that knows something about this.”

Nick was already shaking his head, his jaw set. “No. If I see her again...”

“I really doubt she'd do anything to help Juliette anyway,” Rosalee agreed. “Juliette is paying the price for us taking Adalind's child…”

They looked at one another, knowing that was right on a certain level.

“Sloane’s looking through her grandmother’s books as well…” Nick said, trying to hold on to some hope.

“Again, if this hasn’t happened before, then who knows if there’s anything on it…We’re not quitting, but we just…don’t want to give you false hope. Or the rest of us…” Monroe said gently. Nick looked torn but nodded, understanding what he meant. Hope could be a dangerous thing…

They ended up with another call to a murder—this time, a hitchhiker out by the woods. The sign on his skateboard showed he’d been trying to make tit to Salem. Tracks by the body and the throat torn open pointed to a wesen more than likely. It also made getting Monroe’s help the best choice. Picking him up from the shop, he looked over the prints and then followed the scent of blood to a metal fence surrounding private property. It looked like someone had pulled the fence up at the bottom to sneak through though.

Following it back, they found _Iron Hans_ Ranch. Monroe recognized the name from the rumor mills and knew that it was owned by wesen. Apparently they specialized in a sort of father and son bonding time within the wesen community, involving hunting. They met the owner, Albert Bowden, his son Todd first. Albert was older, with graying temples and a well-kept beard. Todd looked like he at, slept, and drank hard work with but kept a clean shave and neat sandy blonde hair. They’d heard Monroe’s explanation and Monroe woged to show he was wesen—and they woged back as Lowens. They did not react kindly seeing Nick’s eyes.

“Hey, take it easy,” Nick said quickly, holding up a hand.

“I've heard about you,” Albert said, woging back and eyeing him.

“I am not afraid of any Grimm,” Todd said, looking ready for a fight.

“Todd,” his father warned.

“We're here on an investigation,” Hank said. “We needed to ask you a few questions. Is that going to be a problem?”

The two men looked hesitant, but a feminine voice broke their stare down. “Is everything all right?” A pretty young woman with reddish blonde hair like Albert’s walked over, dressed for working the fields as well.

“He's that Grimm that we heard about,” Todd said, calmer but still tense.

She looked up in surprise, tilting her head. “Wow…So this is what a Grimm looks like. I thought I heard it was a woman. You’re better half?”

“Ha, no, not like that. She’s also our partner and…on another investigation,” Nick said, smiling a little.

“This is my daughter, Maggie,” Albert said. “What do you need from us?”

“We just need to know where everyone was last night,” Nick said.

“Right here. All of us.” He looked at Monroe. “You say you've heard of these camps before?”

Monroe nodded. “Yeah. I went to an Iron Hans camp with my dad when I was a kid. It was great. Didn't know they were still doing 'em.”

“So, you've accepted who you are?” he asked, probing.

“You could say that…”

“Well, a lot of Blutbader can't.” He sounded like he knew more about it, which made Monroe frown a little.

“Yeah, it's not always easy.”

“What did you say your name was?”

“Monroe.”

He nodded, looking between him and Nick. “I've heard of you too.”

Nick sighed, not wanting to get Monroe singled out again. Hank stepped up with the question. “Anyone else here last night?”

“We host two camps most weekends,” Maggie said. “One Friday, another Saturday. Last night we had three fathers and their sons here.”

“You were with them all night?”

“Yeah. That's the point,” Todd said, still defensive. “We were camping out. Except for Maggie.”

Maggie rolled her eyes with a smile. “Boys only. I was here. It was nail night,” she said with a fake chipper smile, holding up her red painted nails.

“Maggie...” Todd sighed. This sounded like a common banter between them.

“How far is the camp?” Hank asked.

“Just a few miles in,” Albert replied.

“We'd like to take a look at it,” Nick said. It wasn’t a request.

Albert looked annoyed but sighed and nodded. “Certainly. We can take the van.”

\----------------

“Damerov is no longer in our employ. Sean and I came to an understanding. I made it very clear that any more interference on your son's part would be his last.”

Adalind frowned as she came around the corner. Kenneth was sitting in a chair with his phone to his ear. “Who are you talking to?”

He looked impatient and pulled it away to glance at her this his finger over the mic. “The King. You have something you'd like to say to him?” It was a taunt to see if she would dare. Adalind shook her head quickly and he smiled and returned to the call. “No, sir. Sean is well aware this comes from you. Thank you.” He hanged up, looking satisfied.

Adalind didn’t like that look. “Is the King gonna kill Sean?”

Kenneth looked at her with a bored expression. “Considering he's the father of your child, does that upset you?”

“Does anyone actually care what I think...” she asked, allowing a bit of attitude to her words.

“No. But I do have some information you might find interesting. I just found out your little Hexenbiest chum, Juliette, has gotten herself arrested.”

“She's in jail?” Adalind asked in surprise.

“She throttled a couple of people at a bar. Apparently, they _didn't_ have it coming.”

She frowned at the quip but frowned more at the implications. “And if that happened, that means she's starting to accept becoming a Hexenbiest. And things are gonna get worse before they get... really bad.”

“Including her desire to kill you?” he asked, fake conversationally.

“Yes.”

“Then this could be the opportunity we've been waiting for,” he said brightly.

“I'm sorry, but I don't see an opportunity anywhere near her,” she said, backing away slightly.

“Juliette knows just about everything about Mr. Burkhardt, about his mother, and therefore about where the child...Your child... Might be.”

Adalind frowned more. “Okay, she may have beat up a couple people in a bar...I mean, God knows we've all done that...But there is no way she's gonna betray Nick if that's where you're going.”

“It's surprising how quickly betrayal becomes a viable option, given the right circumstances,” he sighed, standing.

“Which "right circumstances"? The one where you use me as bait?” she asked testily.

“Bait is a rather unflattering term. Think of it more as a…sacrificed pawn.”

Adalind felt a jolt of fear go through her. He was being glib, but he was serious. “I'm the mother of the child you want!”

“It's surprising how quickly betrayal becomes a viable option…Shall I show you?”

Adalind frowned and watched him as he went to the door. Opening it, Rispoli walked in while ushering a very scared looking Susanna inside. She wasn’t dressed as a maid; she was in jeans and a blouse. Had they taken her off the street? Or from her home? Why? _Oh no…_

“Hello, Ms. Flores. Please, come in,” Kenneth said, that terrifyingly cordial smile on his face. She looked at Adalind but slowly stepped in. He put an arm on her back and lead her into the room to stand in front of Adalind. “Now then…I have a question for you, Ms. Flores. Have you been passing notes between Adalind and Sean Renard like they were in grade school?”

Susanna swallowed and Adalind felt a cold sweat go down her back. “I…don’t know what you’re talking about. Sir,” she added quickly. Adalind was surprised that she was playing dumb but let out the breath she was holding.

Kenneth frowned, but didn’t look actually upset. “Trying to be loyal, I can appreciate that. But I also don’t appreciate lying.”

“I’m not—”

“What if I offered you five thousand dollars to tell me the truth right now.” Susanna’s eyes widened and Adalind’s jaw dropped. “Or, let’s say ten thousand. Right now. You could do a lot with that I’m sure.”

“I…um…” she said. She looked at Adalind, who looked back trying very hard to hold back her fear. She couldn’t expect Susanna to decline that. It would be stupid for her to walk away from that much money for a stranger— “I’m sorry, but that is the truth, sir. I don’t know who this other person is. I just like to chat with Miss Schade sometimes…”

Adalind stared at her and suddenly felt very, very small. If the roles were reversed, she likely would’ve sung like a canary, grabbed the money and ran. And knowing that, she felt a small bubble of guilt. But also, confusion and frustration—she had a daughter! Why wouldn’t she put her needs first?

Kenneth did look a little more impatient and perhaps confused as well. “Really? For ten thousand dollars, that’s your answer?” She nodded and he sighed before suddenly reaching up and grabbing her face, making Susanna cry out and Adalind gasp. “And what if I told you you’re lying to a member of the royal family?”

Susanna stared in shock before woging suddenly into the bright, beautiful green plumage and orange beak—a parrot-like wesen.

“Lovely,” Kenneth said, that sickeningly sweet smile back. “Adalind, what do you know about Royals?”

“…Um…well, you’re very rich and…well contacted,” she said, looking at Susanna in shock still. She changed back and actually looked a bit more afraid in Kenneth’s grasp.

“Yes. But do you know _why_ we are that way? We’re not like you and other wesen after all.” Susanna looked at her as well and Adalind looked way.

“…I did hear something, once…about you being similar to Grimms…” she said quietly.

Kenneth smirked. “In a way. You see, true royals know of a…gift our king was given. One that commands the loyalty of wesen, whether they want to or not.”

Adalind remembered the feeling of wanting to please the king and shuddered a little. “…You don’t have that gift though?”

“Sadly no. It’s an actual gift—something the king keeps with him. But I do wish I had it at times like these, so I didn’t have to do this.” He let go of Susanna’s face and then back handed her hard enough she went sprawling with a shout. Adalind covered her mouth in shock and the creeping fear of what was happening. Susanna shouted again as Kenneth walked over and set his boot on her back, pushing her down. “You stay on the ground where you belong. Now tell me the truth and I won’t make this worse.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” she cried. Kenneth glared and put his weight on his foot, making her gasp and clutch at the ground as her ribs creaked.

“You’re trying to protect a hexenbiest, you realize. One that doesn’t give a damn about you. She was using you, like she uses everyone else!” Susanna didn’t say anything, just bit her lip harder. Kenneth glared and lifted his foot only to bring it down harshly on her back again, making her shout. “The truth! Now!”

“Sir—” Rispoli started.

“Do not,” he held up a finger to him. “A stubborn bird-brained woman is not going to get the better of me. Talk!” He lifted his foot again.

“Stop it!” Adalind shouted, holding up her hand. Kenneth froze, looking shocked a moment that she was holding him in place with magic. Rispoli drew his gun but she shook her head. “She doesn’t know anything! You’re right, I was using her, but she doesn’t remember. I erased her memory.”

Kenneth looked at her, his eyes glinting dangerously. “Release me.”

“Stop hurting her and I will,” Adalind said, letting her eyes smolder a little in her anger.

“What do you care? She’s a maid, she’s no one!”

Adalind swallowed before nodding. “You’re right. That’s why I used her. But what good is it beating on her when she doesn’t know anything. She was too dumb to even say she did to get money out of you. Or to save herself. She’s honest to a fault, why should you keep this up and draw attention to yourself like this? It’s going to raise too many questions if she shows up hurt or dead.”

“She has a point, sir,” Rispoli said slowly. “Demerov is one thing, he was moving behind the scenes. A maid is going to be missed…”

“And she has a daughter,” Adalind said quickly. “She’s a single mom, she’ll be missed fast.”

Kenneth glared at him and her before sighing. “Fine. If she’s of no use, let her go. But I don’t want to see her around here again.”

Adalind hesitated but released him and looked at Susanna. She looked up at her hesitantly, unsure, before standing and running out past Rispoli to the door and out. Adalind watched her go, partly relieved and partly worried. She wasn’t sure what she would do now, but she was also sure she did the right thing. For once in her life, maybe. And a part of her felt good for it she had to admit.

When Kenneth rounded on her she stood firmly in place. “You better prepare yourself. Because as far as I’m concerned, you are now expendable.”

“I’m fairly sure I always was to you, let’s be _honest_ ,” she said, digging at the word.

He smiled humorlessly and grabbed his jacket before heading out. “Well…I rather look forward to see what Juliette will do to you now.” Rispoli looked back at her before following him out. Two men stayed behind and Adalind moved until she could flop back on the couch. Her options were fairly limited now. She had to find a way out before they returned, or her head was going to be offered to Juliette for a trophy. Her only ally just narrowly escaped with some bruised ribs and vertebrae. And she had no way to contact someone for help.

_Gotta think of something…Anything…_

\---------------------

Renard was looking pensively over a file Franco had brought him. He’d noticed lately he’d been having lapses in his memory. Moments he’d be one place, and then be somewhere else. Minutes, sometimes even hours later. In his home, then suddenly out of it with his hands in a fountain. It was worrying at first, but when he discovered another man’s wallet—a man he’d seen that morning with a lot of money in said wallet that was still there—he had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. He’d asked Franco to look up any assaults in the area and sure enough, the man had been found alive but beaten and robbed. There had been other assaults in the area too. He’d told Franco he’d thought he’d seen something, but the worry that he’d caused this was bubbling up. Every time he “lost time”, he’d felt a pain in his chest just before. But no blood like he’d been seeing.

His phone rang and he picked it up with a sigh. “This is Renard.”

“Captain,” a male voice said. “Adalind Schade is in danger. The prince seems intent to do her harm when he returns from an errand. She may be killed.”

Renard straightened immediately. “What? How do you know this?”

“That isn’t important. We will have her at the station within an hour. Please ensure she remains safe.” The line went dead, and Renard looked at the phone in confusion.

\--------------

Sloane sighed as she put another book on the shelf. Two days of going through the books and what she had, and nothing was giving her anything new on Hexenbiests. Though she found a few other interesting bits and pieces and even got a box together of things she wanted to take with her, nothing stood out as being useful to the Juliette situation. She’d even gone up to the attic to look through things up there, but Oma had kept her Grimm life and family life separated with both locations as much as possible.

Sighing, she went back down and folded up the attic steps. She was thinking perhaps it was time to give up and head back. Pausing at the bottom, she looked at her old bedroom door again. Taking a breath, she opened it slowly. The room was just how it was when she was 9. The same multicolored quilt, the same white bedframe, the same bookcases, desk and rug…though older and faded and dusty. She looked at the toys on the shelves with a mix of embarrassment and nostalgia. She wondered if they’d be worth anything now but didn’t feel like she could touch them still. It was like being in a museum in a way. One thing she did touch though was the stuffed rabbit on her bed. “Barnabus…” she muttered. The name had been a joke at first from her Grandmother, but it had stuck to the rabbit as hard as the dust in his fur. His once butter-yellow fur was dingy grey, and the orange in his ears, paws, and corduroy overalls wasn’t any better. Looking at the room, she wasn’t sure what to do with it. Ripping it up didn’t appeal to her. But it didn’t feel right to leave it like this the rest of her life. It felt…dead. Not a fresh bleeding wound, just a dead moment in her life. Like static on the radio. And like static, some might find it calming and others might find it annoying.

Sloane decided she was somewhere between. She stepped back out and downstairs and hesitated before putting the bunny into the box of things she would take with her. She’d clean him up later.

The knock on the door startled her. She paused, unsure who would be there, and quickly hid the box in the corner before going to the front hall. “Hello?” a voice called. “Is someone home? I’m really sorry, but my car broke down and my phone isn’t working!”

The voice sounded older and Sloane eased slightly as she walked to the door and looked out the peephole. An older woman, in her sixties or maybe even seventies, was standing nervously on the porch. She had on light, pastel colored clothes—a salmon jacket over a blue and white stripped shirt and beige pants and sandals—with silver hair. She had a mole on her cheek near her eye, like an old-fashioned beauty mark. She was looking around anxiously.

Sloane slowly unlocked at opened the door, looking at her. “Um, hi…”

The woman breathed out in relief, smiling. “Hello. Sorry, I really don’t mean to bother you, but my car broke down and this stupid phone is—honestly, this thing is more trouble than it’s worth,” she said, holding up the smart phone in her hand. “Do you have a landline I can use?”

“Uh, no, sorry. The phoneline hasn’t worked here in years,” Sloane said, easing slightly. Something about this woman put her a bit more at ease.

“Oh darn,” she frowned.

“I’ve got my cellphone though; I can call someone for you.”

“Oh, would you?” she sighed.

“Sure…though I’m curious, how’d you find me?”

“Oh, I’d heard there was a house up this way—most of the town says it’s haunted actually.”

Sloane felt a tight smile grace her lips. “And you thought coming to the haunted house was a good idea?”

“I thought I’d take my chances of starring in a horror movie over walking to town in these shoes,” she said, pointing at her sandals. “I’m dressed for a garden luncheon, not a hike.”

“Fair enough,” Sloane chuckled. “Come in and rest your feet then.”

“That’d be wonderful,” she sighed, walking in. Sloane went to grab her phone while the woman sat down on the couch. “My name’s Gayla Babic, by the way. I was passing through Wildred on my way back from an engagement party. My great niece, if you can believe it.”

“Congratulations,” Sloane said, listening idly as she walked back over with her phone. “Here you go.”

“Thanks. You know, I admit, it’s my fault my phone doesn’t work. I keep forgetting to charge the dang thing.” She took Sloane’s phone and used a primly manicured nailed finger to dial and put it to her ear. “…Ugh, voicemail. Sandra, it’s me, your mother. My car broke down and rather than say I told you so, please just call a tow truck to come and get me at FM 2112, near Larson Road. My phone’s dead so I’m imposing on a local. Please do it ASAP.” She hanged up and sighed. “My daughter rarely answers strange numbers…”

“It’s usually a good practice,” Sloane said, taking the phone. “If you want, you can wait here and charge your phone.”

“Really? It’s not a bother?” she asked hopefully. 

“No, it’s fine. I’m Sloane Larson by the way.” She held out her hand and Gayla smiled and shook it. She then opened her large purse and pulled out a charger to plug in.

“Nice to meet you. I didn’t honestly know anyone lived up this way still.”

“It’s…complicated,” Sloane said. She didn’t want to say she didn’t actually live there—it was hard enough to keep people from trying to break in some days.

She smiled and then leaned over a bit, looking in surprise at the kitchen. “Are you redecorating?”

“Uh, yeah. Still sort of figuring that part out,” Sloane said.

“Well, that should be fun!” she said, smiling brightly. Sloane smiled a bit as well and realized that Gayla reminded her a lot of her grandmother. She’d always been very cheerful and worked to see the good in life and in people. Though she had a scary streak if you crossed her.

“I hope so. I do still have my fridge hooked up, if you’d like something to drink. I’ve got water, lemonade, tea…”

“Water would be lovely, thank you,” she said sincerely.

Sloane nodded, going to pull out a couple bottles of water. “So, you don’t live in Wildred?”

“No, though it’s lovely. I’m from Weaverville.”

“Oh, I’ve been there. It’s nice,” Sloane said, handing her the water.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to know more about Wildred though. I heard there were some strange happenings not too long ago.”

 _You mean the murders?_ “I can tell you a little, but I don’t know everything…”

\----------

Adalind was pacing, trying to figure out what to do. Even if she managed to get by the guards left at the door, there were plenty of other people working for Kenneth in the hotel. She’d be captured again and would either be locked away completely, forced to deal with Kenneth personally, or have to face Juliette. And she had a feeling this would be to the death this time.

She heard the hotel phone ring and one of the men put it on speaker with a quirked brow. “What do you want?”

“It’s me, you idiot,” Rispoli panted out.

“Boss? Uh, sorry…”

“Keep your apologies and get down to the lobby!”

“The lobby?”

“Yes! We have a situation! Someone took a shot at Prince Kenneth!”

“What?!”

“You heard me! I’m having to do damage control down here and we have a gunman outside. Get down here now!”

“But what about the blonde?”

“Leave her! Where is she going to go?”

“We’ll be right there.” The man hanged up and got the other, rushing out the door. Adalind waited a few moments, surprised that this had happened and that anyone had the balls to shoot at Kenneth. Biting her lip, she went to the door to open it slowly. She jumped when she saw someone else there about to open it.

“Susanna?” she gasped. Susanna was in her maid’s uniform again, a cart next to her.

“We don’t have a lot of time. Put this on, quick,” she said, holding out a bag. Adalind blinked and took it, opening it to see another maid’s uniform. “Hurry! Grab what you need!”

Adalind didn’t ask more questions, quickly going to strip down and put the uniform on in her room. She had a feeling what was happening and quickly grabbed a few things to hide in the pockets and in the bag with her clothes—Diana’s picture first and foremost, some bits of jewelry she could hold on to or pawn if needed, a couple sets of clothes, things like that. She hadn’t brought much with her to Vienna to start with, so not much there was hers. The jewelry was a sort of middle-finger to Kenneth and Viktor—they’d thought the shiny things would distract her and she’d oohed and awed but kept them in reserve. Like a Victorian housewife who knew they might be useful one day if she needed to start her life over. Her overnight bag was still packed, and she grabbed it.

“Miss Schade, we need to go,” Susanna said a touch more urgently.

“Right, coming,” she said, quickly walking out.

Susanna then reached into the cart and pulled out a brunette wig. “Hold still.” Adalind didn’t argue, letting her twist and pin her hair up in a couple of places, then put the wig over it. Then she pulled out a pair of glasses and handed them to her. Adalind was surprised how prepared she was, but quickly put them on. It wasn’t perfect but it should do as long as no one looked too close at her. She hid Adalind’s bag and the clothes she’d been wearing in a laundry cart in the hall and then nodded to her. “Push this and keep your head down, okay? Just follow me.”

“Right,” Adalind said. Susanna moved the housekeeping cart around and Adalind followed her with the laundry cart to the service elevator. Adalind felt her heart moving down to her stomach and up to her throat like a carnival ride. More so when, as they got off the elevator at the bottom, she saw the two guards and some of the others coming back their way. But no Rispoli or Kenneth…Susanna didn’t pay them any mind as she wheeled the cart out and Adalind quickly tried to follow.

“Hold it.” Adalind froze, swallowing, and Susanna froze as well. “You’re that maid, aren’t you? The one that made friends with Miss Schade?”

“Yes…” She didn’t look at them.

“I thought we got you fired.”

“I begged to just be demoted…I’m working the other floors, not the penthouse now. Please, I-I just need this job, for my daughter,” she said, hunkering down more. Adalind frowned worriedly, but quickly ducked her head when he looked her way.

“Yeah? Well…we might got a job for you,” he said, smirking. “You can bring your friend too.”

“Andre don’t be a pig,” the other man bit out. “Just leave her alone, we have more important things to worry about. Or do you want to explain to Kenneth how we got fooled?”

The man quickly fell back in line. “Fine…”

They quickly continued on to the regular elevator while Adalind and Susanna continued on towards the back of the hotel. Once there, Susanna grabbed Adalind’s bag from the laundry cart and handed it to her as they ran for the back door. Outside she ushered her into a car and then quickly drove away.

“Oh my god…” Adalind gasped, leaning back in the seat. “It worked…” Susanna nodded, looking in the mirror now and then as she drove. “…They said someone shot at Kenneth…”

“I’m afraid that was a diversion,” Susanna sighed.

Adalind blinked, looking at her. She sounded more…confident than before. “…You did that?”

She smiled a little and spoke, in a perfect imitation of Rispoli’s voice. “I’m Penas Do Arco-íris. Imitating noises and voices perfectly is child’s play.”

“…And freaky, but cool,” Adalind said, smiling a little. But she was eyeing her as well. “Are you actually a maid?”

He smiled a bit more wryly and went back to her own voice. “Ha, no, not exactly. I work with the resistance. Meisner got me a job at the hotel with a fake background and I faked the rest.”

Adalind’s eyes widened and she straightened. “You…wait, were you there to spy on me?”

“Well…you and the royals in general. Nothing personal, but when Meisner heard what you’d done and that you were back with the royals he was…disappointed.”

Adalind flinched a little and looked away. “I…admit, it was a rash decision…I mean though, do you actually understand or was the whole “single mother” routine a ploy too?” she asked, turning suspicious.

“…Both,” she admitted, turning pensive. “My daughter, Kristen, was real…but she died because of a conflict between two royals a few years ago. An engineered “accident” that took her and several others too on a ferry in New York. Cars not secured, rolling back into the water. And I’d gotten out to get her a drink…”

Adalind looked at her in horror before looking down. “I…am so sorry…” she said honestly. Diana was alive, that much she knew at least. A strange feeling of guilt and relief were warring in her.

She nodded. “I found out the truth thanks to Meisner and the resistance and I’m working with them now. I understand why you did what you did, even if I don’t approve.”

“…Then why put your cover at risk to help me? Giving notes to Sean and…this?”

She sighed a bit. “Partially part of spying on you—we read the notes just in case. But…like I said, I understand. But you have the chance to get your daughter back. I didn’t think letting them kill you was fitting. Plus, you’re not that bad. You tried to save the poor maid you “used”. And Meisner spoke well of you.”

“He did?” she asked in surprise.

“Yes. And he’s a hard man to impress, trust me,” she smiled. “I made the case that you were worth more alive. He didn’t need much convincing and the other head honchos of our organization agreed…maybe a little after we already started the rescue,” she said with a smile.

“Well, I appreciate that,” she said honestly.

“Who was that person they said they were bringing in? “Juliette”?”

Adalind smiled wryly now. “A…problem of my own making,” she sighed. “Seems to be the story of my life the last few years.”

“…I had a few years like that,” she nodded. "Can you elaborate though?"

"...I did something to the local Grimm to take his powers, and took her form to do it. She's his girlfriend. To undo it, she had to reverse the spell. And now...she's a Hexenbiest."

"...wow," she said, shocked.

"Yeah. Like I said, my own fault...I got tricked by the royals into thinking they had Diana and would let me see her if I did that. I did what I thought I had to..."

Susanna sighed. “Honestly, sometimes you’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t. Heck, this wasn’t the first time I got hit or threatened, though it’s the first time a royal did it directly.”

“…And you still do it?” she asked, unsure.

“I do it so that no one else goes through what I did, as much as I do it for vengeance. I can’t bring Kristen back, but I can do this. One day I’m hoping we find out what gives the royals their power and destroy it.” She looked at her. “Don’t suppose you know what it is?”

Adalind shook her head. “No, sorry…I didn’t even know till Kenneth mentioned it.”

Susanna sighed but nodded with a smile. “I figured, but worth a shot. We’ll keep going at it.” She pulled up to the police station. “We called Renard; he’s waiting for you inside.”

She sighed and nodded, unbuckling her seat belt. “How do I…thank you?”

“Don’t trust the royals again, first and foremost,” she said seriously. Adalind nodded. “Other than that…well, here.” She reached in and pulled out a card. “This is my private number. We could use someone with your talents in the resistance. You ever up for it, give me a call.”

“…I’ll be honest…I really just want to find my daughter,” she said, though she took it.

“But even when you do, it’ll be dangerous. Getting the Royals unseated is the only way you’ll both be safe again,” she pointed out.

“…Let me think on it,” Adalind sighed.

“Of course. Just be safe. And remember, you need more allies than enemies right now...”

Adalind nodded and climbed out with her bag to head up into the station. A few gave her a look, since she was in a maid’s uniform still, but she just made a B-line for Renard’s office. He looked up and then did a double take before standing and opening the door. “Adalind?”

“Yeah…it’s me,” she sighed, walking in.

“…You look interesting as a brunette.”

“What? Oh,” she sighed, reaching up to unpin the wig. “Yeah. Pretty mundane but it worked I’ll admit,” she chuckled, taking off the glasses as well.

“Was that your idea?”

“No, actually…” She hesitated, looking towards the office windows. “Is Nick…here?”

“Yes, but he’s interrogating some potential suspects right now. We should get you out of here before he sees you though.”

“Yeah…But before that you need to know, Kenneth is going to meet with Juliette right now.”

Renard cursed and walked over to his phone to call up the central precinct. Adalind meanwhile closed all the blinds in the office and started undressing. “…What are you doing?”

“Changing. This was good for sneaking through a hotel, but it stands out here.”

“Ah…”

She quirked her brow and smirked. “You’ve seen me naked before, Sean. Several times.”

“Yes, but not in my office.”

“Do you like it?” she tried to tease.

Renard sighed and rolled his eyes before the call connected. “This is Sean Renard, Captain of the 83rd precinct. I’d like to check on a person currently in custody. Juliette Silverton. …What? Can you tell me who? …I see. Thank you.” He hanged up while Juliette finished pulling on a pair of dark wash jeans and a black and gold designer top. “Juliette was released.”

“What?” she gasped.

“It seems her bail was paid, by a Ken Lyons…”

“Oh hell…” she muttered.

“We’ll get you somewhere safe. And then we are going to have a lot of serious talks…”

Adalind nodded. There was a lot of dread in that sentence, but she’d rather take her chances with Renard than Juliette at this point.

\---------------------

“I don’t know where that tow truck is…” Gayla said, looking at her phone in frustration. She’d tried to call on her own and call her daughter, but after a couple of hours there was still no one. Sloane was trying to be a good host—and not show her anything the woman shouldn’t see—but it was a little frustrating to not be able to continue her research. Even if it wasn’t going anywhere.

“You know, I know a little about cars. I can take a look if you like.”

“Oh, I don’t want to impose on you more…” she said, looking worried.

“It’s fine, really.” Sloane said, standing. “I can drive down in my car.”

Gayla smiled in relief, grabbing her phone and charger and followed her out. Sloane went ahead and locked the door. “I got a bag of tools in my car, follow me.”

She did so, climbing in the passenger seat. “…New car?”

“Pretty new, got it a few months ago.”

“It has that feel,” she smiled.

“Yeah. My old one was in a bad wreck unfortunately…I still kind of miss it, even if it was getting on in years.”

“Nostalgic?”

“Yeah, and…it was one of the few gifts I got from someone…Nevermind,” she sighed, starting the car up. She drove down to the gate, which she’d left open since yesterday, and down the road. At the side of the road just a ways down was a blue sedan with California plates. “Any idea why it stopped?”

“I think it might be the battery, to be honest…”

“Oh, that’s no problem at all then! We can try jumpstarting it.” She drove a little further ahead, doing a wide U on the country road since no one was coming and parking just in front. Stepping out, she grabbed the power cables from her bag and walking over. Popping the hood, Sloane hooked everything up and she let her car run to try and charge the battery for a good 10 minutes. Gayla tried it then and the engine turned over.

“Yes!” Gayla shouted, pumping her fists. “Oh, I should’ve learned to do that years ago, but it never came up before…Thank goodness you’re prepared.”

“I try,” Sloane said, winding the cables up. “You should keep heading on home before it gets too dark.”

“Right…Oh but let me give you something.” She quickly opened up the back and pulled out a tinfoil dish. “I had this left over from the party.”

“Oh, I can’t,” Sloane said, holding up a hand awkwardly.

“Nonsense, I insist. It’s apple cake.”

She paused, looking at the dish in surprise. “Apple…huh, my grandmother used to make that too…”

Gayla smiled and handed the dish to her. “Then all the more reason I want you to have it. You’ve been so nice today; I want to thank you.”

Sloane took the dish and smiled. “Thanks…drive safe.”

She nodded, climbing back into he car to drive away while she still had a charge. Sloane smiled at the cake and climbed in her car to head back up to the house. Pulling up, she took the container and opened it in the car curiously. Inside was a slice of dense, stout, almost pie-like cake. It was a golden brown with slices of apple cooked into the top, dusted with cinnamon and sugar. _Apfel Streuselkuchen …just like oma’s…_ She could almost imagine what the whole cake looked like, with radiating slices of apple. Her grandmother used to make them for special occasions, or when Sloane had a bad day. Smiling, she pulled the slice out and took a bite. The rich, buttery crust and sweet apple filling was just like she remembered. It brought back a lot of memories and she sighed and smiled as she got out and kept munching on it as she headed for the door.

As she reached for her keys, she felt the world suddenly tilt. Her legs gave out and she hit the door with a grunt as she was trying to figure out what was happening. It felt like her body was flooded with ice water, shards of ice scraping her veins. It concentrated up into her eyes and she gasped and fell onto the porch completely, her body barely able to move. It felt like a seizure of some kind, but her mind was still able to register what was happening.

She heard footsteps and a hand on her shoulder rolling her over. Gayla was looking down at her, but the sweet grandmotherly look was gone. Instead was a look she knew well, the cold calculating look that regarded her most of her formative years. “Well…I thought you might at least wait a bit. You really did become too trusting.” She reached up and pulled the beauty mark off her cheek, her face changing back to Dierdre’s real look.

“Y…you…” Sloane tried to speak, but it felt like she couldn’t pull in enough air through the pain.

“Yes, it’s me. Let’s go inside, hm?” She reached for the keys in Sloane’s hand. The ring with the key to her house, this house, and Nick’s house all still on there. With a surge of will, she pushed herself up and threw the keys as hard as she could through the window at the side with a crash. The alarm inside started going off.

“Oh goddammit! You have to make everything difficult,” she growled. Reaching down, she pulled Sloane over her shoulders and stepped down over to the car she must’ve stolen. She deposited Sloane into the passenger seat and buckled her in because by now she couldn’t move at all. Her mind felt like it was receding into the background—aware but not in control. Dierdre smiled as she started the car. “Now…just relax and let it do it’s work. Then you and I will go on a little trip, just like old times…”

\------------------------

Juliette spent a lot of time staring at the wall in the jail. There wasn’t much else to look at considering it was walls and bars. There was a simmering frustration there. She could probably break herself out, but then what? She couldn’t go back to Renard’s, she couldn’t go home, none of her old friends would understand what was happening. Too many questions on why she and Nick broke up.

Rosalee had visited earlier—and that had done neither of them any good. Rosalee talked about “curing” her as well. Why couldn’t they understand she didn’t want to be cured?!

 _Because they’re jealous and scared of me,_ she thought. Rosalee talked about giving up her power for Nick. That if it meant she could be with Monroe she’d give up being a Fuchsbau. A hypocritical notion in her opinion, given that Nick couldn’t given up his Grimm powers for her. They had Sloane. He could’ve given it up. In the moment of being scared and angry for the threats against Monroe and Rosalee she’d agreed, and that was how they ended up here. And now she was stronger than them and that was a problem.

On some level she knew why they were scared. Why they cringed. She wasn’t the prettiest wesen—no soft fur like Rosalee or pretty eyes like that Musai that tried to beguile Nick. And the power gave her confidence not to just roll over with their plans. But Nick had wanted to marry her. In sickness and health, for better or _worse_ were a big deal with that. Maybe it was good to know how flimsy his resolve really was when she wasn’t just the perfect, easy going girl Friday.

_If he wants you, he should want you no matter what. So, he’ll get in line with me if he knows what’s good for him because I’m not just doing what he wants! I should change for him for love—ha! He should accept me for love! I shouldn’t have to change…_

She was practicing with her powers by splatting bugs coming in through the window above when the jailer came back in. “Okay, time to go.”

She blinked and sat up a little. “Go where?”

“Your bail’s been paid,” she said, unlocking the door.

She felt a small bit of hope inside as she rose. “By who?”

“I don’t know, I’m just following orders,” she sighed. “C’mon.”

She followed her out and got her personal effects signed out before heading to the door. She’d hoped it was Nick—coming to his senses, coming apologize. Instead another man stood at the steps. She hadn’t met him before, but he gave off an aura that gave her pause. Like he expected her to do what he wanted.

“Juliette. My name's Kenneth. We've never met.”

She frowned, eyeing him more. “You bailed me out. Why?”

“We have something in common.”

She stared and then shook her head. “Am I supposed to ask what?”

“You're not curious?”

Rolling her eyes, she started down the stairs. “No.”

He watched for a moment before raising his voice. “He can't be much of a boyfriend if he left you to rot in jail.” She paused and then turned to look back at him. “Seems like we both have good reason to be upset: the Grimm.”

She sighed and crossed her arms. “What do you want?”

“What we've always wanted. Adalind's child. No surprise there, I suppose,” he shrugged.

“You're one of the Royals,” she said, realizing what he was and why he gave her such a sketchy vibe.

He smiled and mock bowed. “Yes. The one who's going to get the child back.”

She snorted. “Well, I don't know where she is.”

He nodded. “I believe that you don't, but I also believe that you could.”

She shook her head, moving to walk away again. “Sorry you wasted your bail money.”

Kenneth blinked and then laughed—a sharp, annoying sound to her, following her down. “My God. You're still loyal to the Grimm even after what he's done to you. You know, I admire loyalty when it's deserved, but this borders on tragic.”

She narrowed her eyes and turned. “You know, it might be more tragic for a Royal to die in Portland.”

He smirked. “For me, yes. Of course. But I wouldn’t recommend it. You may be powerful but killing me would bring the rest of the royal family against you. And we have eyes and ears everywhere. All your power will be used to fight for your life, day in and day out. Ask Renard’s mother how fun that was. But I’m not here to try and force you with threats.”

“And what did you want?”

“A trade. Help me, and I’ll give you what you want.”

“If you say a cure, I might take my chances with your manhunt,” she warned.

“Why on earth would you want a cure?” he laughed. “I mean granted, I’m not keen on Hexenbiests, but it’s better than being some powerless little nobody. I mean, you can do so much more now, I don’t blame you for wanting to keep it.”

Juliette eased a little. She’d said essentially the same and it was a surprise to have someone agree with her. The fact that it was a royal was slightly off-putting, but then he did know a thing or two about power. “Then what did you have in mind?”

He smiled a bit more wolfishly. “I heard that you want to…settle some things with Adalind. Though if you like the powers…”

“No, I still have things to settle with her,” she said, glaring automatically. “She started this; I will end it.”

“I like that attitude. Well, Miss Schade has been staying with us. I’m more than happy to arrange a meeting.”

“…One of us would probably end up dead,” she pointed out.

“Well, she’s been less than useful. Picking fights with you, hesitating when it comes to some of our more…unsavory methods. She actually has some talent but she’s too focused on her child and her pride to use it properly and she’s already shown how trustworthy she is. And honestly, I just find her to be a hindrance. You though, you have a lot of promise. Untrained and yet you can beat Adalind so well? I can put you in touch with the resources to really _learn_ what you’re capable of.”

“If I work for you?” she guessed.

“With, not for. Help me get the child the King wants so I can get back to my own life and once that’s done you’re free to go. Maybe even set up for life. Think of Adalind as a sign on bonus. After all, I actually want you to use your powers…not erase them.”

She hesitated, thinking it over. It was tempting, she knew. But this would be a line to cross that might be too much. After all, to get Diana she would have to cross Renard, Nick and Nick’s mother. She doubted Kelly would go down without a fight too. And there would be no coming back from that.

“…I need to think on it.”

“Fair enough,” he said, holding up his hands. “I’ll be at the Hotel Deluxe, and so will Adalind. Come find me when you’re ready.”

He slipped by her then and headed down to his car. Juliette watched and then sighed, heading away on her own.

\--------------

Nick sighed as they headed back to the station. They’d checked out the campground with Albert and his son. There was blood, but they’d admitted to hunting a rabbit. He said that was all they did—no big game. It wasn’t about embracing that part of their past, hurting humans and the like. It was about learning not to fear the more bestial parts of them, that they are in control and that there’s nothing to be ashamed of. He somehow could tell Monroe had been on hunts in the past and asked if he would talk to the kids about it. Monroe was hesitant though—after all, the hunts he was on before weren’t always controlled, or they were helping Nick. That might not sit will we them.

They brought the fathers in from that night to talk with them at the station, but they corroborated Albert’s story. The only thing they hunted was a rabbit. Monroe couldn’t smell anything suspect on them because they likely went home to take a shower. So, they were still at square one. Monroe decided to go back to the ranch and talk with Albert and the others and see if he could pick up anything else. Nick thanked him and they started back for their desks to keep looking things up. He was surprised when, of all people, Henrietta walked through towards Renard’s office. “Henrietta?”

She looked up and smiled that same composed smile. “Detective Burkhardt. It’s nice to see you.”

“Yeah…um, what are you…doing here?” he asked carefully.

She chuckled. “Renard asked for a favor, so I came down to give a friend a ride…”

“Okay…”

“Something troubling you?”

“…Juliette has…really gotten out of control.”

“Who’s control?”

“Her own,” Nick said, frowning. “Her…power is one thing, but she’s ending up hurting people with it. She’s assaulting people, hurting them, things she wouldn’t have done before!”

Henrietta frowned, the teasing smile fading. “That is concerning…The powers we have take years for us to master and learn to respect. She might be on a power high. It would be like getting a new, fast car and wanting to speed down the highway.”

He nodded a little. “I can get that, but how do we stop her?”

She sighed and shook her head. “I’m not sure how still. Nothing is going to make her human again to my knowledge. And even finding another way to suppress her power wouldn’t be permanent. It could even make things worse. The lengths Adalind went to in order to get her power back aren’t surprising. It’s like killing a Hexenbiest to take her powers away.”

“Well, maybe what’s dead should stay dead,” Nick muttered.

“Nice Stephen King reference,” she smirked. “But my point is, if she wants those powers back, what will you do? Lock her away for the rest of her life?”

Nick frowned and sighed. “I…don’t know. Just…I want her to be herself! But she’s getting more and more unstable and I’m really honestly scared she’s going to kill someone. And not in self-defense.”

Henrietta sighed and nodded. “I’m worried about that too…But in truth, I’m afraid she might be more powerful than me already. I don’t think I can take her in a fight. I’ll see if anything stands out though.”

Nick nodded slowly. “Thanks…I’d appreciate it.”

Henrietta smiled again. “Just be warned, I may ask the same price I asked Detective Larson. A favor.”

“…I’ll try not to be suspicious,” Nick said, though he relaxed just slightly. “I better get going, we’re still working a case.”

“Good luck,” she waved, heading for Renard’s office. He ushered her in, and she smiled when she saw Adalind. “Well…hello again.”

“Hello…” Adalind sighed, standing. “…Thanks, for this.”

“Adalind, it’s not a trouble.”

“After our last visit—” she started.

“You don’t have—”

“No, let me say it,” Adalind said quickly. “You…told me a lot of things that I probably needed to hear. I’m still going to do everything I can to get Diana back in my life, but…I understand some of what you meant now. That all this trouble I brought on myself, and her…is because of the rash decisions I made. And that there’s no way we could’ve had a good life after bringing the royals into this.” She glanced at Sean, but he nodded, agreeing. He knew full well what they were capable of. “And now Juliette…well, she’ll kill me if given the chance I’m pretty sure.”

“She is still angry with you,” Henrietta agreed.

“But I’ll find a way to fix that or make up for it…and make peace with Nick at least.” Renard and Henrietta were both surprised but Adalind put on a determined face. “I want Diana back, powers or no powers. If I have to suppress hers and mine, that’s fine. She’s my daughter…I just want to be with her. Watch her grow up. I’m lucky I still have that option if we find her…”

Henrietta was surprised before smiling and looking a bit proud. “Well said…For now, let’s go to my house and rest. We’ll figure out next steps then.”

Adalind nodded and picked up her bag. Henrietta took her scarf from around her neck and draped it over Adalind’s head, wrapping it around her and they headed for the back door. Nick caught a glance and frowned curiously but couldn’t see her face clearly enough.

They ended up getting a call about another body found on the same highway. This one had been there longer—maybe a week. He was certain now the camp had something to do with it. He called Monroe to tell him about it and got a shock. While at the camp to talk to the kids about his experiences, they’d gone to hunt another rabbit. Except Maggie was there—and she’d tried to entice Monroe into hunting a hitch hiker. While Albert and Todd didn’t want to belief it, they were setting off to find her. Nick, Hank, and Wu rushed over in hopes of apprehending Maggie. Unfortunately, for her at least, the hitch hiker she chose was armed. He’d ended up stabbing her in the abdomen thinking she was a wild animal. He wasn’t exactly wrong in one respect. Her philosophy of the strong eating the weak hadn’t taken tools and weapons into account it seemed. She died in her father’s arms, lamenting that she felt like they weren’t close. He insisted he loved her, but she faded quickly. It didn’t feel like a win…

As they were finishing with the scene, they had no idea that several members of a gang were loitering the streets after mugging a small group of men. One was laughing, counting the money out.

“Not bad, but I was hoping for better,” he said.

“Hey, we’re in the slums, what do you expect?” another pointed out.

“I thought they looked like guys coming to find some hookers for the night, thought they might have a bit more on them…I mean, they looked like the type that would have to pay.”

The others laughed but paused when they heard footsteps at the start of the alleyway. A woman’s voice said, echoing down the hall. “Klaustrike…Hundjager…Hahnenkamm…Grau Schreinen…”

They all were immediately alert and without thinking really woged in surprise—A cat, a dog, a rooster and a donkey like wesen altogether. At the edge of the alley were two silhouettes. Women they realized as one stepped a little further in. One was older, with eyes black as starless nights. The other was dressed in a hoodie, with a mask up from her neck to over her nose. They could see her eyes were black as well…but her pupils were like a full moon—pure white in the sea of black. And that was somehow much more terrifying.

“Amazing…” Dierdre murmured.

“Grimm!” The donkey-like wesen brayed. He looked ready to run, but the others bared their teeth.

“I knew we’d find some of you here…” Dierdre said. “But that you could spot them across the street without them woging…”

“What’s she talking about?” the Klaustrike asked.

“Who cares, just kill them!” the Hahnenkamm said, moving forward with the intent to peck those black eyes out.

“Sloane, kill them.”

Sloane had her knife out in a flash and rushed forward, bringing it through the Hahnenkamm’s neck. Following through, she tossed it effortlessly into the Hundjager before he could stop trying to run towards her. She kicked out, pushing it in deeper and making him buckle and collapse. The other two were about to run but Sloane was faster as she moved around the alley. Another kick had the donkey hitting the dumpster hard enough it dented, and he was down. The Klaustrike was backing away, looking scared.

“Please…please, we didn’t kill anyone!”

“Tonight, you mean. No mercy, Sloane. That’s an order,” Dierdre said.

Sloane was in front of him in only a few steps and grabbed his face to smash him into the wall headfirst. She released him, retrieved her knife and made sure they were all dead before returning to Dierdre. Dierdre smiled and reached up to wipe a bit of blood away from her cheek. “Good…that was very good. Let’s go rest up, you have a big day tomorrow. I can’t wait to show you off to your friends…” she chuckled. Sloane said nothing, only following her with a blank stare, her eyes not returning to normal.

\-------------------

Adalind and Henrietta arrived at Henrietta’s house after having dinner in town. “I know it’s not a penthouse, but I’ve got a nice guest bedroom.”

“I’ve stayed in castles, penthouses, shacks in the woods and dungeons the last year. A homey guest bedroom sounds nice…” _I stayed in one of those with Nick and Juliette too…_

Henrietta smiled and helped her upstairs. The bedroom was similar to the Victorian feel of the rest of the house, with a nice big bed and furniture in warm woods and blue and silver wallpaper. “Rest up for tonight. Tomorrow, we can think about how to approach Mr. Burkhardt. Because he’s going to be your best bet on finding your daughter. You just have to prove you aren’t…”

“Wicked, anymore?” she supplied, grimacing.

“It’ll be hard, but I think better in the long run,” Henrietta said wisely. “The good thing about having friends like them is they watch your back.”

“I think friendship is off the table entirely considering what I’ve done. Especially to Nick himself…I had to sleep with him, as Juliette, to take his power before.”

“Yes, that was extreme…”

“My only defense is hormones, anger and grief,” she sighed, flopping back. “I would’ve done _anything_ to get Diana back and I was stupid enough to believe Viktor…”

“Well, admitting you’re wrong is a good first step,” she said. “If you can master that, you’ll be a step ahead of your mother…But you know, it a twisted way, I still miss her too. Mostly I miss who she was when we were younger, before she thought power was the only thing she needed…”

Adalind looked at her from lying on the bed and nodded. “Yeah…I miss her too, despite how we left things…”

“That’s the thing about death. You never have the chance to make things better once it takes you or someone you love…” She shook her head and patted Adalind’s hand. “We’re alive though. We’ll make things better. Heck, I might make a white witch out of you.”

Adalind smiled wryly. “One thing at a time, okay?”

\---------------------

“What do you mean she’s gone?” Kenneth growled.

The men at the door ducked their heads. The braver of the two continued speaking quickly. “We received a call on the hotel line from Rispoli that someone shot at you in the lobby!”

“I made no such call,” Rispoli said immediately, looking at Kenneth.

“Of course you didn’t, I had my eyes on you the entire time,” he snapped.

“Then it was someone who could do a very good impression,” the man swallowed. “He wanted back-up, so we rushed down. When we realized nothing was wrong, we rushed back up and Miss Schade was gone.”

“So, let me get this straight. Someone contacted you on the hotel line, not your phones, to come downstairs and you do it?”

“We thought it was you and Rispoli,” the other man said.

“What you thought is that someone took a pot shot at me in a crowded hotel. I realize this is America, but no assassin is that stupid and no one insane enough to do that knows I’m here,” he said, his voice tight like a razor wire. “So, you left my bargaining chip alone and followed orders from an unconfirmed source because to your ears, it sounded like your boss. So, no confirmation needed?” They didn’t say anything, and Kenneth turned his gaze to the man in question. “You assured me you hired the best men for this.”

“They are. If they say it sounded like me, I believe them. This would mean someone planned this to get Miss Schade,” he said, trying to remain calm.

“Again, telling me things that a toddler could work out on their own,” he sneered. “I want these two gone. Now. Or they will be gone permanently.”

The men looked at Rispoli, but he sighed and motioned to them. Both quickly headed out the door. Kenneth began pacing, the calm façade he tried to present cracking. “That little witch actually managed to get away…I didn’t think she had the gall to do it.”

“With all due respect sir, she’s well known for being determined…” Rispoli said.

“Yes, I did underestimate her…” he muttered.

“Do you want us to track her down?”

Kenneth kept thinking but finally shook his head. “No…if she’s out there, she’s likely ingratiating herself to others she thinks will help her. Meaning getting her back would require a lot of effort and could draw more attention than I want right now.”

“Then what about Miss Silverton?”

“We’ll have to figure another way to get her to our side…” he grunted, sitting back. “…We need a way for her to despise Mr. Burkhardt. She’s still too attached to him. Have someone start looking into him more. I want a file by this time tomorrow of everyone and everything he knows and loves. We’ll find something we can use.”

\----------------------

Nick sighed as he entered the station. To save the hiker, they’d had to make Maggie out to be a serial killer. Which she was, technically. Her brother hadn’t been happy, but her father said that it was necessary. That he wasn’t going to let someone else suffer because of his family’s mistakes. The camp was going to be closed for quite a while too while he figured out what he needed to do. Maybe forever. Apparently it was quite eye opening to the other fathers that maybe their daughters might need some guidance as well when it came to their instincts.

Today would be a lot of report writing, and as with many of their cases the truth was going to have to be bent a little. Or a lot. Or crumpled up and thrown in the trashcan. He looked at his phone as he walked up. He’d tried to call Sloane the night before for an update and to see how she was, but he still had no reply to his message. He sighed and set it down on his desk as he booted up the PC and began work.

Hank walked up a little later, sighing as he sat down. “Man, this city is starting get bad…”

Nick looked up, frowning. “How so?”

“I talked to some of the other detectives at other departments this morning. The cases they got today are rough. One is a murdered prostitute—had her throat slashed and was just left in an alley.”

“Yeesh…” Nick agreed.

“Oh, it gets better. Lindley and Caswood, at the North Precinct, got a gang related one—four men, all dead in an alley near Bremen. Beaten and stabbed. Granted they weren’t exactly the pillars of society, but it’s a bit worrying when guys known for fighting end up dead all at once.”

“No kidding…” It reminded Nick of Juliette—and was that ever a twisted reminder—and he sighed and picked up his phone again while Hank got his computer ready. Standing, he walked a few paces away to call.

“Portland Central Holding,” the receptionist answered.

“Hi, this is Detective Nick Burkhardt. I’d like to arrange to see someone in your custody, Juliette Silverton, this afternoon.”

“Just a moment…Silverton, Silverton…Ah yes. I’m sorry, Detective, but Miss Silverton has already been released on bail.”

Nick’s eyes widened and he nearly fell over. “What? By who?”

“The note I have is Ken Lyon. That’s all there is.”

He took a breath, resisting cursing. He didn’t know who that was. “I see…thank you. Have a nice day.”

“You too.”

Nick hanged up and then quickly marched for Renard’s office.

Renard looked up, blinking as Nick came in. He was a bit tired, with circles under his eyes and everything. “Nick…what’s wrong?”

“…I think you probably know Juliette was arrested,” Nick said, eyeing him.

He sighed, leaning back. “Yes…and I know Sgt. Wu found out and told you so I didn’t bring it up.”

“Do you know she’s been released?”

“I found out late yesterday,” he confirmed. “I was trying to figure out how to tell you that part. And that I know who released her.”

“What? Who?” he asked, tension rising.

“Kenneth Alun Goderich Bowes-Lyon…one of my cousins, but also a prince.”

Nick’s jaw dropped. “I…What? How does that work?”

He sighed and spread his hands. “The royals are patrilineal. My father had 6 brothers who were all princes, and many of them have had sons who are also princes. But there is only one Royal Highness and one king,” Renard explained with a sigh.

“Okay…so your father is the king…”

“And my brother Eric was the Royal Highness. The next in line for the throne.”

“But he’s dead…so are you…?”

“Ha, no,” he said, sneering bitterly. “I had to give up my claim when I was young to keep them from killing me and my mother. If I tried, I’d be dead in a day if I’m lucky. However, because he has no other sons, he’ll have to choose from my cousins now. And that’s why they want to get Diana. Whoever brings Diana to my father will get a lot of points for the princely judgement. Kenneth managed to convince the King to let him replace Viktor, who I’m sure isn’t happy...”

“…Your family is…”

“Awful, I know,” He sighed.

“You okay?”

“…I’ve been dealing with aftereffects of my more than near death experience.”

Nick frowned. “No offense, but does all your mother’s spells come with aftereffects?”

“It’s spell work in general I’m told,” he sighed, not taking it personally. “My abilities were negligible, but I did study a little. You’ve seen it I’m sure. There’s never a straight path to what needs to be done—it’s give and take and prices and…sacrifices. Energy, work, ingredients, blood, pain…That’s how these powers work. You don’t actually get something for nothing.”

Nick frowned, not quite sure how to respond to that. He saw what he meant, but sometimes those prices seemed too steep.

Before he found the words, Wu and Hank rushed into the office with his laptop. “We have a problem!”

“Is it learning to knock,” Renard muttered, messaging his temple.

“No, it’s this.” Wu turned his laptop around and had them group up before playing the video on it. “I sent that sketch you made out to other precincts and they handed it out. A convenience store sent this in.”

They watched as the camera near the front register showed Dierdre enter. There was someone following her, in a hooded sweatshirt with the hood up and a neck gaiter-type face covering and dark glasses.

“Who’s that?” Renard asked, watching the footage as they bought some water and gas.

“No idea, she was alone before,” Nick said, shaking his head.

“Yeah, but I figured out this was only a block away from that quadruple homicide the North Precinct is dealing with. Around the time of death.”

“So, this might be her doing?” Renard sighed.

“Which means the victims might’ve been wesen too,” Hank said.

Nick pulled out his phone. “I’ll call Sloane, it might be best if she gets back here and we figure out how to take her down once and for all. And her new friend.”

Renard nodded, looking at the footage. “I’ll see if I can get the detectives from the North Precinct on a trail as far from her as possible. We don’t want them getting in the middle of things.”

“That’d probably be best. I don’t think they’d be ready without a Grimm of their own,” Hank sighed.

“We were barely ready with two,” Wu pointed out. He noted Nick looking at his phone in frustration. “What is it?”

“She’s not answering…Hey, Sloane, it’s Nick. Dierdre’s made a move back here in Portland, call me the moment you can and get back here soon. Be safe.” He hanged up after leaving the message but kept frowning. “I don’t like that she didn’t pick up…”

“You don’t think Dierdre…I mean, she’s her daughter,” Hank said.

“Didn’t seem to matter much to her last time,” Nick sighed. “I’ll try Mim and Jean—Dierdre can’t hurt them and they can check on Sloane.” They nodded while Renard instructed Wu on what to do with the footage while making notes on what to do to put the other detectives off the trail.

“Nick?” Jean asked when she answered the phone.

“Hey Jean.”

“Hey yourself. What’s going on?”

“Nothing good I’m afraid…Dierdre is here in Portland again and already has a body count.”

“Oh damn,” she muttered.

“Yeah. I tried to call Sloane and she didn’t pick up, is she with you?” he asked hopefully.

“What? No…we went to Eureka for a couple of days. An old friend of ours was in a hit and run. He luckily lived but his leg is busted up pretty-bad. Wait, what do you mean you can’t reach her?”

“She didn’t pick up the phone,” Nick said, getting a bit worried.

“…I’m going to make a call, have someone go check on her.”

“That’d be good. Dierdre’s here in Portland so it should be safe.”

“Right. I’ll-I’ll call you back.”

“Thanks,” Nick said. She hanged up and Nick frowned more.

“What’s wrong?” Hank asked.

“Mim and Jean had to leave town to help someone…”

“…Feels convenient?” Renard asked, looking troubled as well.

“Yeah…Maybe…I should’ve gone with her,” he sighed. “I knew Dierdre was still out there, I know Sloane doesn’t have the benefit of the protection…I’ve been so caught up with what’s happening to Juliette…”

“Hey man, we’re not going to play the blame game here,” Hanks said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “We don’t even know if she’s been hurt. We gotta have a little faith in Sloane.”

Nick sighed and nodded. He had a bad feeling though, one he couldn’t shake.

“While I send the detectives from the North Precinct on a goose chase, I want you to track down Dierdre,” Renard said. “Do you think Sloane will mind if we use force?”

“I think she’d understand better than most,” Nick said honestly.

“Good. Do what you have to do.”

\----------------

Juliette sighed as she walked up to the trailer. She’d parked a bit further up the way, just in case Nick or someone came. She didn’t really want them coming in ready to kill her. Going back to the house didn’t feel right, going to the shop didn’t feel right, or to Monroe and Rosalee’s, or Renard’s…nothing felt right. She’d been burning bridges left and right. Though she didn’t want to admit who started the fire.

Climbing out, she went to the trailer and unlocked it. She still had a key; she hadn’t taken it off the key ring. She remembered when Nick first brought her here. She’d fascinated with all of it. All the adventure stories she read when she was young felt like they were coming true…but she soon realized that Nick was the one they were coming true for. He was the special one. She was the sidekick—and not even a major one, Monroe and Rosalee were helping him more. She was the love interest.

_Guess that’s not true anymore. I’ve got more power than any of them…_

But she was alone. She couldn’t deny that.

Looking over the books, she picked up the rolodex Sloane and Nick were putting together. Flipping through, she found the H’s and several references to Hexenbiests. She picked out a few and sat down at the desk. They discussed known powers, a handful of known spells—though not how to perform them—some counter methods and the like. It felt strange now that she was one to read the descriptions on how to subdue and kill a hexenbiest. But it also cemented some of what she felt. That there was no way Nick would want her back. There was no information there that would help her master her powers either and show him she was fine as she was now.

_Well…so what? I don’t need him! I can stand on my own!_

She told herself that, but there was still a part of her that felt a twist of pain. She’d felt it when he’d left her in the cells, when he pulled his gun on her when she woged, when he’d turned away in disgust. She did still have feelings for him. And that made his disdain hurt all the more.

_He's not worth it! You just need to move on and get to figuring out what you want to do with your power now._

She laid back, unsure about that. Did she still want to be a vet? Maybe…did she want to do more? Definitely. She could travel for a while. Find a new place to settle down, make a new life. Maybe someplace big and more glamorous, like New York or L.A.? Leave all of Portland behind…leave Nick behind…

She groaned a bit and sat back on the bed. She put her arm over her eyes and tried to just focus on her thoughts. _Maybe I should just burn this place down and leave…that’ll make a lasting impression,_ she thought morosely.

\-------------------------

“What do you mean Sloane is missing?” Rosalee asked, on edge immediately.

“I didn’t say missing, I said she’s not answering her phone,” Nick said gently.

“She always answers for us, so she must be missing,” she said.

“Well, you know, things come up, maybe she wasn’t able to answer right away,” Monroe said soothingly. He looked worried as well though.

“Jean and Mim are in Eureka, so they’re having someone go check on her. She should be calling back soon.”

“We shouldn’t have let her go alone,” Rosalee sighed. “I knew we should’ve just all gone together…Could we fly down?”

“I looked; the closest commercial airport is still hours away from Wildred. Four-hour flight plus going through all the security and what not, it might actually be faster to drive…” Nick sighed.

“Clint is back in Montana too,” she sighed.

“Look, I’m worried too, but we should also worry about Dierdre. I mean, she can’t hurt us, but she’s already killing other wesen? And now she has a partner?” Monroe said worriedly.

“Yeah, we’re working on tracking her down. But she’s good at covering her tracks,” Nick nodded. His phone rang then, and he looked at it. “It’s Jean.”

“Answer it!” Rosalee said quickly.

Nick was already doing so, putting it up to his ear. “Hey, Jean, you hear from Sloane?”

“Nick, this is bad! Sloane is missing!”

He froze. “What do you mean she’s missing?!”

“I told you!” Rosalee said, trying not to panic. “Put it on speaker!”

Nick did so as Jean was speaking. “I asked Deputy Gonzales to go check on her. She told me she was already there because Sloane’s alarm went off! The house had a broken window where Sloane’s keys were tossed in, her car was still there, but she was gone!”

“When was this?” Nick asked, trying to go into detective mode instead of panicking friend mode.

“She got the alert yesterday. Mim’s phone buzzed but we didn’t realize it because we were at the hospital with our friend, Martin! It was in the afternoon…”

“Okay…We have footage of Dierdre being here late at night. She could’ve been there.”

“Did you see Sloane on the footage?”

“No, but we saw someone following Dierdre. Does she have any friends?” Monroe asked.

“We don’t exactly speak often, I’m not well versed in that woman’s social circle,” she said waspishly. She then sighed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap, I’m just worried…”

“We understand,” Rosalee said. “We’re going to track her down and figure out what’s going on, we promise.”

“Please…please find her. We can’t lose her again…” Jean said quietly.

“You won’t. We aren’t losing anyone,” Nick said. “Call us if you hear anything and we’ll keep you updated on our end.”

“Right…Thank you,” she sighed. She hanged up and Nick put his phone on the table.

“Is there anything I can do? Can I track her?” Monroe asked.

“It rained last night, and we don’t have anything of Dierdre’s anyway,” Nick sighed. His mind was whirring away. “I’m going to check Sloane’s house.”

“We’ll come too,” Rosalee said. “I want the chance to kick that woman’s ass when we find her.”

Monroe and Nick glanced at one another. Angry Rosalee was not a person to mess with they knew and considering Dierdre couldn’t hurt her that was going to be interesting.

\---------------

Dierdre drove up to Sloane’s house. It was quaint. Blue on the outside, white trim, nice windows…She noted it had a nice garden in front of it—similar to her mother’s before it’d wilted to nothing after her death. “Get out of the car.”

Sloane did so without speaking back. Dierdre had covered her mouth and given her a hoodie to be safe. After all, she was a local detective now apparently. Being recognized as a murderer would be interesting on one hand and uproot her life forever. But, it would also cause a manhunt for a killer cop. That was too much work to evade.

She got out as well. “Follow me.” Sloane did, and they went up to the door. “…You threw your keys,” she muttered, annoyed. Sighing, she reached a gloved hand to the doorknob. At her touch, she grunted when she felt like thousands of needles went through her hand. She let go and backed away. “What the hell?!” She glared and set a finger on the knob, the same sensation going through her. “…Sloane, touch the doorknob.”

Sloane did so and seemed completely fine.

“…Are you in pain?”

“No.”

“Did you do something to this door to keep me out?”

“Yes.”

“What?” she asked impatiently.

“Protection charm.”

Dierdre narrowed her eyes. “Honestly…you and your magic tricks…Pick the lock so we can go inside.”

Sloane opened the hoodie up and took her lock picking tools out of the pocket there, kneeling and getting to work on picking the lock. Dierdre looked around to make sure no neighbors jogging, or bored housewives saw them. The door popped open only a moment later and she smiled a bit. At least she remembered something. Sloane straightened and opened the door, stepping inside. When Diedre moved to follow though, she felt a whole wall of that needled, painful feeling. She tried to press on through but then it pushed her out and she growled. “Get rid of that—”

She paused when she heard a car coming up the street. Cursing, she looked back. “Close the door and get back in the car.” Sloane did so without question and Dierdre climbed in the car to drive further down. She watched in the mirror as Nick and drove up with two others—the Fuchsbau and the Blutbad. He went up with a key to open the door then looked panicked when it was open and went inside, the others following. “Well…seems they’re aware you’re not back in Wildred anymore,” she sighed. “This place won’t do as a base. The Library is out…What other Grimm areas are there in this damned city?”

“…The Trailer.”

She paused and looked at her. She hadn’t intended on an answer, but Sloane was much more forthcoming now. “Trailer? What trailer?”

“Marie Kessler’s Trailer.”

“Marie Kessler? …Ah, that’s right. Mr. Burkhardt’s Aunt…you know where that trailer is?”

“Yes.”

“Direct me then,” she smirked, putting the car in drive.

\--------------------

Juliette must’ve fallen asleep as her thoughts chased one another around because it was early evening when she opened her eyes and looked out the window. _Shit…I don’t know if I want to stay here for the night…Better clean up and head to a motel._ Sighing again, she put the books back. Stepping out, she was about to lock the door when she heard a car coming up. She turned and saw headlights through the trees and on instinct she quickly ducked around the corner. She wasn’t sure she was ready to confront Nick just yet. Not without a hell of a fight. Could she do that? Hurt him physically? She wasn’t so sure yet, even with her anger.

But it wasn’t Nick who climbed out of the car. A woman she hadn’t seen before did, tall and strong looking even in her fifties, with black hair and a white streak. Another figure got out the other side, wearing a hoodie and face scarf. “So…this is Marie Kessler’s trailer?” the older woman said, walking up to it.

“Yes.” The other person didn’t sound like they were feeling anything at that moment. It was just an answer to the question.

“Well…I suppose it is nice. A good idea on her part. The only one she had.” She walked over and tried the door. “Huh…Unlocked. Kelly’s son is careless, no surprise there.”

Juliette frowned, watching as she walked in. She looked at the other figure, who just stood there like a statue, staring at nothing. She heard the woman moving around inside, looking through things. Slowly she came out, looking at the other figure. Eyes flicked up to her and she tensed at the blackness—like Nick’s when he saw her woge, a color that sent a chill up her spine—but with a white pupil that seemed to glow in the dimming light.

“…Hexenbiest.”

Juliette froze. She hadn’t woged she was sure. But more than that, the voice was familiar. She frowned and moved closer. “Sloane?”

“And who is this?”

Juliette jumped and turned to see the woman in the doorway of the trailer. “Uh…I—”

“Juliette Silverton.” She whipped around to stare at Sloane in confusion.

“You know her?”

“She’s Nick’s girlfriend.”

“Oh, is she?” she asked, quirking a brow.

“Not anymore…” Juliette said slowly. She looked at Sloane again, wondering what was going on. She was definitely not herself.

“Oh? What a shame? But then it makes me wonder what you’re doing here.”

“Feeling sentimental,” she said, eyeing the woman. “What about you?”

She smiled and looked her over. “I heard Sloane say “Hexenbiest” …are you one?”

She remembered Sloane trying to warn her about her mentor returning. “…You’re Dierdre?”

“Answer the question.”

“Answer mine first,” she ordered back.

Dierdre smiled more. “You’re a feisty one, I’ll give you that…I suppose what you are doesn’t matter much in the end though. Sloane, kill her.”

Sloane reached up to unsheathe her knife in flash and Juliette just barely managed to get out of the way as she rushed to try and grab her. “What the hell!? Sloane?!” Sloane didn’t say anything back, moving to swing the knife into her. Juliette gasped when it nicked her collar bone despite moving back and then glared. _She’s really trying to kill you! Fight back!_ She woged, shrieking at her.

“Burkhardt really was dating a Hexenbiest…disgusting,” Dierdre said, sneering. “Take her head, I want to give it to him.”

Sloane moved to try and strike her neck again, but Juliette pushed back with her power. Sloane met the resistance head on, and Juliette gasped as she actually moved through it. Though she dodged the blade, Sloane’s foot kicked out and hit her in the stomach, making her gasp. It was with a cold sweat she realized that Sloane would have her beat in a hand to hand fight. She tried to stop her again, making her knife halt in the downward arch towards her. The position reminded her of the manticore that attacked her…if she turned Sloane’s hand inward…

_Do I really want to kill her?_

The second of hesitation was what Sloane needed to reach up her other hand and grab Juliette by the throat and lifted her up off her feet without strain. She gasped, woging back in shock at the hard grip. She changed her grip on the knife and Juliette felt a flash of fear. Then her grip slackened, and she groaned, moving back. Juliette gasped as she fell to her knees, coughing. She looked up, ready to woge and not hesitate this time but Sloane’s eyes were flashing between black and normal like strobe lights. “R…Run…Juliette, run…” she grunted, clawing at her face.

It was a surprise. She was fighting for control to save her. _Kill her! Before she kills you!_ The thought shocked her for a moment and instead she got to her feet quickly and ran for the trees.

“What are you doing?!” Dierdre shrieked. “Go after her!”

“N-No…” Sloane gasped when Dierdre grabbed the back of her head.

“You’re trying to fight this? I wouldn’t bother. I’ll see you kill them all one way or another…” She pulled a small vial from her pocket and put it to Sloane’s lips. “Drink up.” Though she tried to keep her lips closed they opened enough for the liquid to seep in. She yelled in pain and Dierdre let go as she collapsed to the ground, hands around her own throat now as if to stop swallowing. But it didn’t matter. The black veins ran up to her eyes again and they darkened once more.

Juliette meanwhile got to her car and started the engine, reversing and quickly getting out of the woods. She paused down the road, breathing deeply. _She fought to try and stop herself, but she could’ve killed me…Grimms are stronger than I thought…_ She hesitated for a moment before grabbing her phone and dialing Nick’s number.

\------------------------

“I don’t see any sign of her,” Nick sighed. They’d gotten to the house to find it unlocked and he’d entered first with his gun drawn. But no one was there. After that they spent nearly an hour looking around with nothing standing out, and even asking neighbors. No one saw anything.

“I don’t smell anything off either,” Monroe agreed.

“But then why was the door unlocked? She wouldn’t have left it unlocked before leaving, Sloane is way too careful…” Rosalee said.

“Dierdre might’ve tried something but we scared her off…” Nick said. “Nothing looks tampered with or taken.”

“Sloane still isn’t picking up though…” she said worriedly, looking at her phone.

Nick sighed, also feeling less comforted and more anxious by the fact there was no one there. He jumped when he felt is phone go off— _My Girl._ He was shocked but quickly fumbled it out and put it to his ear. “J-Juliette?”

“Nick, you need to get to the trailer.”

“What? Why?” he asked, confused.

“Because Dierdre is there right now.”

“What? How—did you see her? Did she see you? Are you okay?”

“It’s sweet you’re worried about me today,” she said snidely.

“I’m always worried about you—”

“You have a strange way of showing it.”

“Juliette—” he started, frustration edging his words.

“Just get to the trailer. Sloane needs your help more than I do.” She hanged up then. Nick was at first upset but then her words registered with him.

“…We need to get to the trailer, now!” Monroe and Rosalee were surprised but followed him to his car. Nick handed Monroe his phone. “Call Hank, we might need more back up.”

“Why?”

“Juliette said she met Dierdre at the trailer and Sloane needs help.” Monroe’s eyes widened and he quickly dialed Hank’s number to let him know. Nick used the siren and light through town till they got to the woods. When he got to where the trailer should be though, there was nothing but an empty clearing. “…No…” He got out quickly, looking around. He saw tire tracks leading away though. “No no no…”

“It’s gone?” Monroe asked dumbly, looking around as well. “We didn’t pass anyone hauling the trailer!”

“She must’ve gone the other way!” Nick said, pulling at his hair. Marie’s trailer was gone.

\------------------

Adalind sighed as she walked around the house. Henrietta had run out to get some dinner for them and she was left to putter around. The fact she was trusted that much was nice, but it also left her alone with her thoughts. And that was not something she enjoyed at the moment. She kept worrying she’d made the wrong choice again. That she’d just dug herself in deeper.

As she looked over the books downstairs, she paused at one marked “Photos”. Curious, she pulled it down and opened it up. It was full of pictures of Henrietta traveling the world with captions below—Germany, France, Egypt, Mozambique, India, China—places Adalind had never seen before. Some were touristy type photos of landmarks, others lovely landscape photos, and the rest looked like she was with friends in just random places. Smiling and having fun.

_I never saw any photos like these of mother…_

“I see you found one of my albums.” She jumped a little and looked up as Henrietta came into the room.

“I…yes, sorry, I didn’t mean to snoop…” _Except I kind of did…_

“It’s fine. They’re all happy memories,” she smiled. “I can tell you more about them over dinner.”

“Uh…sure,” she nodded, following her into the kitchen where some to go Italian food was waiting. “Are all these people your friends?”

“Yes. And a few clients.”

“Clients?”

“I make my living as a consultant on various…mystical arts,” she smiled. “If someone is worried about bad energy or spirits or curses or what have you, I go and try to figure out how to solve them. I make a lot of friends along the way. And a few enemies. After all, some people put curses down for a reason.”

“So, you really do use your powers to help people?”

“Well, it’s not completely unselfish. A girl’s gotta eat,” she smiled, plating up some food. “But as cheesy as it is, the memories and friends were almost worth it too. Plus, I like a challenge.”

“…Mother made her work as a lawyer. But it wasn’t ever really to help anyone…she used her powers to twist thoughts, words, evidence…”

“I’m aware,” Henrietta sighed. “She came to me for “help” once. She wanted a spell to make someone go crazy, get a case thrown out. I refused; said she could do it herself. She complained she was too busy.”

Adalind sighed as well, looking at the photos. “…I’m kind of realizing I never had anyone like this. Growing up, she pushed me to be competitive instead of social. Even at the firm, we were all so cutthroat I can’t even say we were friends. Viktor told me not to contact anyone when we came back here, and I realized…I had no one besides Sean to try and contact anyway.”

Henrietta looked at her sympathetically and set a hand on her shoulder. “Well, the nice thing about youth is you have time to correct your course.”

“…I want to find Diana first.”

“Well, we’ll work on that too. But no more shadowy plots to do it. That’s how you got into this mess.”

“No, I learned my lesson there,” she sighed. “I just don’t know how I’m going to convince Nick and the others to do it though…”

“Well, first don’t think about it in terms of what they’ll give you for it. Then work from there.”

“…Are you sure you’re a Hexenbiest,” she asked wryly.

Henrietta smiled. “Let me tell you about the time I squared off against a Zauberbiest trying to poison a whole town for a development company…”

\------------------

“This is bad,” Wu said. “I mean, she took the trailer? All your stuff?”

“Yeah,” Nick sighed. They’d tried to track the trailer but once it hit the tarmac road the tracks were gone. So, they called Hank who was on his way with Wu to turn and meet them at the shop. Despite not being terribly hungry he grabbed them some food to pick at while they discussed this latest development.

“How did Dierdre even know about it though?”

Everyone was quiet a moment because they were thinking similarly. Even Gallin didn’t know about the trailer. So, the obvious answer was that Sloane told her. Except they couldn’t accept that. Nick especially couldn’t accept that Sloane would tell her about it willingly. Which made him worry all the more about her being in Dierdre’s hands.

“We need to find them. I don’t think she’d have come to Portland just to get the trailer—Dierdre is angry we got the best of her. She wants to get revenge,” Nick said.

“She’s got help though. I don’t think our protection from her extends to them,” Hank points out.

“Then we gotta overwhelm them both with numbers,” Nick said. “We’re going to get Sloane and the trailer back.”

They tried to nod confidently, but it was hard when they had no idea how to do that. “I’ll put an APB out on the trailer,” Wu said, standing.

“Okay, but how do we explain the stuff _inside_ if they check?” Hank asked.

“…Renaissance fair,” Monroe said. “We just say Aunt Marie went to a lot of renaissance fairs.”

They paused for a moment before a few chuckles broke out. “That might work best,” Nick said, managing a smile. It was funny to imagine his aunt doing that. Then again, he couldn’t imagine her hunting wesen still either most days. _I have to get that trailer back…_

“But hey, Juliette calling you is good, right?” Monroe asked as Wu and Hank left. “I mean…it shows she cares still?”

“Yeah...I hope so,” he sighed. “Have you found anything?”

They looked at one another then shook their heads. “Nothing concrete…” Rosalee said gently. “I was hoping to talk to Renard’s mother, but he doesn’t know where she is…And the only other person we know who might be able to help is…”

“Adalind,” Monroe said, pursing his lips.

“…Adalind? You-you want to ask her for _help_?” Nick asked, galled.

“Nick, she cast this spell in the first place—” Rosalee started.

“Exactly! It’s her fault any of this is happening! After what she did to Juliette—what she did to _me_ , I am not asking her for anything! I don’t even want to talk to her! See her!”

“Okay!” Monroe said, throwing up his hands. “It was just a thought, we understand.”

Nick breathed out slight and eased down. “Sorry…I didn’t mean to just snap like that…”

“No, really, we understand,” Rosalee said gently. “It’s not something we wanted to do either. Not unless we were truly desperate.”

“But if Juliette keeps sliding to the dark side, we might be,” Monroe added under his breath.

Nick sighed, rubbing between his eyes where a tension headache was forming.

There was a knock at the back door and Monroe frowned. “We’re closed!” The knock came again, and he sighed, walking over. He looked out and frowned. “No one’s there…?” He opened the door a crack, looking around. Then there was a _thunk_ in the wood beside him that made him jump. “Holy shit!”

“What?” Rosalee asked, rushing over with Nick right behind.

“Uh…message for us?” He pointed at the door frame and the looked out. The light over the back door illuminated a black arrow stuck to the door with a note tied to it.

“Oh my God!” Rosalee gasped. “I thought Dierdre couldn’t hurt us?”

“She can’t. If it was her, she probably missed on purpose,” Nick said, pulling the arrow out. He brought it in, looking it over as he went to the table. Aside from the deep black color it seemed normal and not like something they’d have to worry about. The note on the other hand was more foreboding. He undid the string holding it tightly to the arrow and unfolded it carefully.

_Mr. Burkhardt and company,_

_I would like to invite you to Linnton Park to end this game of cat and mouse tonight. Sloane and I will be waiting._

_-D_

“…She’s calling us out.”

“Linnton Park isn’t far,” Rosalee said.

Nick stood up again and headed for the door. Monroe quickly got in front of him. “Whoa, dude, you’re just going? I mean, we should prepare, shouldn’t we?”

“With what?” Nick asked impatiently.

“…Point taken, but I mean, you’re just going to rush out there? Even if she can’t hurt you, she has someone else and obviously has a plan.”

“She has Sloane. I have to get her and the trailer back. Are you coming?”

Monroe pursed his lips again and looked at Rosalee. Her look said it all. “Hell yeah we’re coming!”

Nick smiled and moved past him to get outside. He froze when he saw a figure at the end of the back alley. It was the person from the footage. “Hey you!”

They turned and ran, and Nick growled and gave chase, Monroe and Rosalee close behind. They were fast, leading them through the alleys and all the way to Linnton Park on foot without losing speed or breath. Nick was fine as well, though Monroe and Rosalee needed to catch their breath as they came to the edge of the trees in the park. The trees were green and mossy for the spring, but in the dark night they looked almost like hundreds of spider’s legs reaching for the sky. The moon was in a waxing crescent, leaving barely enough light for them to see with their wesen and Grimm senses as they walked into the trees.

“Where’d that guy go?” Monroe asked quietly, trying to scent the air. He froze for a moment when the breeze picked up and then grabbed Rosalee, pulling her away just before the hunter struck her in the side with a fist. The strike hit the tree instead and actually splintered the wood. They jumped back before they could counter and moved back through the trees. “You little—!”

“Monroe, don’t! They’re trying to bait us,” Nick said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“He almost hit Rosalee with that punch!”

“I’m fine, sweety, you got me,” she smiled. He calmed slight but was still upset at they went back that direction. They finally found a small clearing where Diedre was waiting, sitting by some rocks, with her partner standing at attention nearby.

“Mr. Burkhardt…and his animal band,” she smiled. Monroe growled low and Rosalee glared as well.

“…Blutbad. Fuchsbau,” a muffled voice said. Monroe and Rosalee were surprised, looking at one another.

“Oh yes, she can see you without you even woging,” Dierdre laughed. “Such an interesting new ability for a Grimm…”

“You knew that already! Where’s Sloane?” she spat.

Dierdre blinked and then smiled. “Oh…this should be fun.” Standing, she walked over to the other person and whispered something in their ear. They looked at them and then rushed forward, trying to strike. Nick and the others had to scatter and Monroe woged and blocked a strike, then shouted when they ducked down and grabbed his shirt to throw him several feet. Nick tried to grab them back but they deflected his hands and he barely deflected a punch aimed at his throat. He managed to bring the deflection back into an elbow strike to the face and they staggered a moment before turning and kicking him in the stomach. Monroe was back then and moved to grab them—claws scratched through the hoodie but they moved out of the way before twisting and kicking at him. Rosalee tried to get into the fight but the flipped over her and in an impressive move brought her down with their moment and arms around her torso. Monroe snarled and tried to hit them on the ground but they rolled—except the hoodie came off as Rosalee tried to hold them. The neckgaiter and wrap-around sunglasses stayed on, but a familiar bob of platinum blonde waves were revealed as they skidded away.

“Oh, looks like we have the reveal,” Dierdre said. “Sloane, pause.” She stopped standing facing the three shocked faces.

“Sloane?” Nick asked, confused. She didn’t’ answer.

“What did you do to her?” Rosalee shouted, moving as if to rush Dierdre. Sloane did move now, getting between them and making her skid to a halt in shock.

“I ordered her to make sure to protect me. It’s not fair I can’t hurt you lot after all. I admit, I was a bit underhanded…but she now obeys me completely. Really, I don’t think we’ve ever been closer,” she smiled.

“Sloane, snap out of it!” Nick called. She didn’t seem to stir or change.

“She obeys _only_ me,” Dierdre said, the smile turning predatory. “I figured out how to order her to do that. Watch…Sloane, attack.”

Nick glared at her ordering Sloane like a dog, but he didn’t have time to contemplate it long when she dashed back over to them. Nick barely had time to block when she moved to punch him in the face. “Sloane!” Another blow came around hitting him hard in the shoulder and making him grunt. Monroe moved to try and push her away, more wary of his claws now, but she kicked out, making him oof and back away.

“Sloane!” Rosalee yelled, moving for her. She yelped when an elbow strike caught her in the shoulder, but she managed to reach up and pull the sunglasses away as Nick pulled them apart. Rosalee gasped when she saw her eyes. “Oh my God…Nick, th-that’s what your eyes looked like when you were like this…”

Nick stared then backed away when she tried to strike again. _Gwendolyn Zima’s “cure”? How?_

“Congratulations,” Diedre smiled. “You found me out. I stole that book from Cynthia Gallin. I’ve been all over the country preparing this. Because I can’t hurt you lot. I couldn’t even try. I considered a lot of options but remembered Gallin mentioning curing you of this. And then…well, I can’t hurt you, but she can. It’s perfect.”

“You’re insane!” Rosalee said.

“Maybe to you. But I can’t have so many people able to hurt me when I can’t hurt them. Especially wesen.”

“We could just agree not to meet anymore,” Monroe pointed out.

“No…I’d rather know you don’t exist anymore. Sloane, _kill_ them.”

Sloane reached up and unsheathed her knife. Nick had only a few seconds to back away before she swiped up in a move that could’ve cut his nose off.

“Nick!” Monroe said. He woged again rushed Sloane, slamming her hard enough to send her skidding. “Sorry, Sloane!” She recovered, not saying anything or looking distraught but moving her knife in a way it almost seemed like it was made of light as she came towards them. Monroe yelped as he tried to dodge but got a slash across his arm.

“Monroe!” Rosalee gasped. Sloane turned her head towards her and Rosalee felt her blood run cold as she moved towards her. It was so much like when they first met—when Sloane wanted to kill them at first sight. Before they were friends. Before she changed. But it was worse too because she wouldn’t even talk to them. “No, stop, Sloane, it’s us!”

Nick managed to get behind Sloane while she was focused on Rosalee and grabbed her hand with the knife in one hand and wrapped his arm around her waist with the other. Sloane bucked in the grip and he had to hold on tighter than he wanted to stop her from breaking free—this would hurt a normal person. “Sloane! Sloane, stop, it’s Rosalee!” She froze for just a moment, blinking, before trying to wrench out of his grip again.

“…Nick, can you keep them busy?” Rosalee asked quickly.

“I. Can. Try!” he said, trying to avoid her stabbing back at him.

“Good! Monroe, c’mon!” Rosalee turned and ran back through the woods.

“You’re so called friends left you behind,” Dierdre said, mock sympathetically. “I’d say I’m surprised, but what do you expect from a couple of wesen.”

“They didn’t leave me behind!” He gasped and finally threw Sloane to keep her from getting him.

“Really? Because you look alone to me. Stop, Sloane.” Sloane froze and Nick watched warily as Diedre stood. “You’re a Grimm. You’re a hunter in your heart. You can’t befriend your prey like that.”

“Your mother did,” Nick said. It felt close to saying _your mom._

Diedre glared. “My mother was a sentimental old fool! Her trying to “help” wesen got my father killed. Because they would rather see us dead than actually be our friends.”

“You’re wrong,” Nick said. “Monroe and Rosalee, and so many others, are my friends. They’re Sloane’s friends. I don’t deny some are bad, even evil, and some can’t help what they do to survive. You though, you did this to your own daughter of your own free will You raised her like a weapon. And now you poisoned her and control her, and you stole from me my family’s collection? What kind of Grimm are you?”

“You wouldn’t understand what’s necessary of us. You and Sloane never understood! You’re just children playing at some idealized notion of being ‘heroes’!” she snarled.

“No, you don’t understand. You’re more of a monster than any wesen I’ve met.”

She glared at him darkly. “You don’t deserve that collection. You don’t deserve to be a Grimm!”

“And you don’t deserve a daughter like Sloane!”

She laughed and it was harsh and cruel. “You’re right. But now she’s perfect for me. Sloane, kill him.”

Sloane moved for him again and Nick dodged the strike. “I’m sorry about this!” He slammed his hand into her shoulder hard enough it would dislocate. Sloane grunted and her fingers went numb just long enough he was able to kick the knife out of her hand and then across the clearing. Sloane elbowed him harder in the sternum, making him gasp and back away. Her arm was limp a moment but then with a snap it was back in place as she threw up her hand. She flexed it and moved her fingers to test it, perfectly fine.

“What?” he muttered.

“Oh, that’s interesting…this steroid has a lot of neat effects. I take it you didn’t get a chance to really explore it before?” Diedre chuckled, enjoying the show.

Nick didn’t get a chance to quip back as Sloane moved to strike him again.

\---------------

“Why’d we leave Nick?!” Monroe painted, holding on to the door jam of the shop. They’d ran all the way back and he was getting in quite a bit of cardio this evening.

“Because I know the cure to that, remember?” She said, moving fast to try and get all the ingredients together.

“You still have enough ingredients?” He asked, surprised.

“Yes, Lucretia and I keep in contact—she sent me more of the bleeding hearts so I could study them,” she was explaining, getting them together. “If I can make the cure, we can stop Sloane without hurting her more. Or vice versa. Get me the bowls!”

“But you think Nick will be okay on his own?” he asked, quickly going to get them.

“I saw it. She fought it for just a moment. I think she’s going to keep fighting it. I just have to hurry,” Rosalee said, grabbing her own notebook and flipping to the page.

“I’ll call Hank and Wu,” Monroe said, grabbing his phone.

“Yes, then come help me. I need to make this fast!”

\------------

Nick shouted as he hit a tree, then barely ducked when another splintering punch landed. Sloane wasn’t tiring and what hits he managed didn’t seem to do anything to slow her down. He kept apologizing in his head, but he was starting to want to actually hurt her just to make her stop. Conversely his lip was split, his cheek was bruised, and his eye was going to be a bit swollen he was sure.

He wasn’t sure how long they’d been duking it out but Diedre finally sighed. “This is going on too long. I want to kill the rest of your friends sooner.” She pulled a handle from her jacket and with a flick a switch blade popped up. Small, but effective. She tossed it, letting it sink in the ground. “Get that and finish him.”

Sloane flipped backwards and he was amazed a moment before he saw her grab the handle on the flip and com up with the knife in her hand. He prepared himself for a running stab, but instead she ducked down at the last moment and kicked his feet out from under him, and a punch to get him squarely on the ground. The air was knocked out of him. When she stepped towards him, he managed to kick her in the stomach, and she stumbled back. He tried to sit up and gasped when she fell on top of him, her hand around his neck to keep him down.

“That’s it!” Dierdre said cheered. “Cut out the traitor’s heart!”

Nick’s eyes widened as the blade came down and he braced himself for the stab, shutting his eyes on instinct. But no pain came to him. After a second he cracked open his eyes…

Sloane’s hand was over her own chest. The blade buried just below her collarbone on her right side. Nick inhaled and felt like his soul dropped out of his body when her eyes—clear now, back to being green but wide in shock as well—caught his. “N…Nick…?” she gasped out…in relief. The hand left the blade and she began tipping to the side.

“SLOANE!!” he yelled, surging up but trying to carefully support her. “Sloane! Oh God, no-why?!”

“Had to…stop myself somehow…” she gasped out.

Dierdre stared, her face unreadable. “…You…what have you done, you stupid girl…?”

Nick’s head whipped up and he glared, rage filling him that she was still there and asking questions like that. Dierdre tensed from the look and quickly turned to run away back into the trees, only pausing to grab Sloane's hunting knife from where it fell and take it with her. Nick wanted to chase her badly, hunt her down for what she’d caused, but Sloane was starting to shake in his arms. _Is she going into shock? What do I do? Will she bleed out? Will she die here? What do I do?!_ He reached into his pocket and cursed when he saw his phone was cracked from their fight. It wouldn’t turn on.

“N-Nick, don’t let her get away…” Sloane gasped out.

“I’m not leaving you,” he said, looking at her askance.

“She took the trailer!”

“I know,” he said. “Juliette called to warn us…”

“You have to get it back…”

“Stop talking,” Nick said, though his tone was gentle. “Y-you gotta conserve your energy.”

“For what? I got a knife in my chest, what energy am I using?” she said, smiling wryly through the pain.

He tried to smile back, but he felt sick. “Don’t argue with me, dammit, I’m not losing you! Not like this!”

Sloane looked up at him, trying to breath and stay steady. She reached up to pull the neck gaiter down with a shaky hand to talk clearer. “…It’s my own fault…I got tricked…”

“Sloane—”

“Nick, I—”

“Nick?”

He breathed out when he heard Monroe’s voice. Sloane sighed and let the words die on her lips. “Over here! Hurry!” He could hear their running steps come closer and Rosalee’s horrified gasp.

“Sloane!” She rushed over, kneeling down. Monroe, Hank and Wu were right behind them and he was glad to see them.

“She…she stabbed herself to stop from stabbing me,” Nick said, feeling sick. “Hank, do you have a phone?”

He nodded, grabbing it out and dialing 911 quickly. “This is officer Griffin, I’m at Linnet park, we have an officer down!”

Hank’s urgent instructions faded into the background as they focused on Sloane. Nick reached for the thin blade but Rosalee quickly stopped him. “Don’t! We can’t pull it out!”

He swallowed, nodding but looked at Sloane. She was pale, sweating slightly and shaking. She cracked one eye open to look at Rosalee. “C…Cure me…”

“Sloane, I don’t know if I can move you—”

“The pain is the only thing keeping me in my own mind right now. You went to make the cure, right?” she bit out. Rosalee nodded, smiling a little at how well she figured that out. “Knew you would...Cure me before I lose control again…I might still try to hurt you otherwise…”

Rosalee frowned but quickly brought out a flask. Very carefully Nick helped support her head while she brought it to her lips. Sloane drank it quickly, grunting at the taste but choking it down. She shook more and Nick grabbed her hand and squeezed hard as he watched the black veins slowly recede.

“How do you feel?”

“Better,” she said, smiling wryly. "Now I'm just worried about the knife..."

“Sloane…”

“It’s okay, it’s not that deep…it was a small knife after all.”

“Yeah, you dropped the big one,” he smiled.

“Kind of glad I didn’t use that…now…” Sloane blinked slowly and Nick saw her eyes were unfocused and the whites were turning blue. “I…what’s…going on?” she slurred out.

“Sloane?” Rosalee asked quickly.

“I can’t…” Her eyes closed as if they were too heavy to keep open and her head lulled to the side.

“Sloane? Sloane!” Nick said. She didn’t stir. Pressing his fingers to her neck, he was shocked to feel her pulse was steady and slow, as if she were asleep. He called her name again, gently patting her cheek, scared it would go any slower. He could hear the sirens in the background, but Sloane wouldn’t open her eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Little early update because I'm looking forward to next chapter :D I'm not done being evil to Sloane I'm afraid...


End file.
